Longing

  “No one knows for sure.” The gravity in her dad’s tone was something she rarely heard. “The tumor happened at the exact spot of her brain injury from the accident.”

  The truth was more awful than anything Bailey could’ve guessed. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face into her dad’s chest. “Poor Cody … I can’t imagine.”

  “To think he’s walked this path by himself. I told him I’d drive out there tomorrow morning after meetings at the Colts’ facility. Just so we can pray, so he knows he’s not alone.”

  “The older woman, Tara … Is that where she’s staying?”

  “It is. I guess Cheyenne was going to marry Tara’s son. But he was killed in Iraq. He was part of Cody’s unit.”

  “I know.” Bailey thought about the times when she’d been frustrated that Cody had left her for Cheyenne. But now she couldn’t hold that against him. Clearly the girl had needed Cody. God must’ve known that.

  “What’s happening?” Her mom came to them, her expression dark with worry. “Who was on the phone?”

  “Cody Coleman.” Her dad put his arms around each of their shoulders pulling her mom close. “His girlfriend Cheyenne … she has brain cancer. It’s terminal.”

  “She doesn’t have long.” Bailey felt the tears in her eyes, the sadness in her heart. She’d come full circle in her feelings for Cody, because despite their pasts, she was comfortable wanting to help Cody without any of the usual emotional complications. He was a friend to her now. Nothing more. She was supposed to leave for LA in two days, but she might have to postpone the trip. All that mattered was the heartache Cody was going through. And the reality that they needed to be there for him — whatever that meant.

  However that looked.

  Twenty-Three

  BRANDON COULDN’T WAIT TO SET HIS PLAN IN MOTION. HE HAD a ring picked out, but he wanted to know for sure it was the type and style she liked. The plan was for Bailey to go shopping with Katy Matthews, and while they were looking at clothes, Katy would randomly take her into a jewelry store — pretend it was an impulsive move, something spur of the moment.

  Then they’d look at engagement rings, and Katy would dream with Bailey — ask her what she liked and even have her try on a few. Just for fun. Then Katy would report back to him by the twelfth and sometime before Valentine’s Day he would buy it.

  Then, on February fourteenth, he would do what he’d wanted to do since Christmas Eve: He’d ask Bailey Flanigan to be his wife.

  He was sitting on his balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean and running the plan over in his mind that morning when his phone rang. The sight of Bailey’s name made him smile and he answered it quickly. “Hey, how’s the packing?”

  “I’m getting there.” She sounded quieter than usual, defeated even. “I might stay an extra day or so.”

  “In Bloomington?” Brandon thought about his plan. He stood and walked to the balcony railing, the ocean breeze cool against his face. “Like over the weekend, you mean?”

  “I’m not sure.” Again he heard sadness in her tone. “Something’s come up … with Cody.”

  “Okay.” Brandon sucked in a breath and held it. The ground beneath his feet shifted, the way it always shifted when he heard Cody’s name. He tried to keep his voice even. “So what is it? With Cody?”

  “Not him, actually. His girlfriend.” Bailey sounded like she might start crying. “Brandon, she has brain cancer. She’s dying.”

  Brandon exhaled and felt his shoulders sink. He turned his back to the ocean and leaned against the railing. “Bailey, that’s terrible.”

  “I know. He called here to talk to my dad.” She hesitated. “I wanna be here for him. If he needs me.”

  A part of him wanted to know if this changed anything, if it meant Bailey might stay in Bloomington even longer than the weekend. Like through Valentine’s Day, even. He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to come across callous. Instead he’d waited for her to explain the situation more fully. “My dad’s going to see him … to pray with him.” Bailey sighed, the sorrow still evident in her tone. “That’s about all he wants right now. So it might not affect my flight. I’ll have to see.”

  Again Brandon was sorry about Cody’s girlfriend. But he was secretly glad Bailey didn’t think she needed to stay, didn’t feel she had to be part of helping Cody through this terrible time. She had an audition in LA, after all, a life to get started. Cody was a part of her past—even if he was still connected to her family.

  Their conversation ended with Bailey promising to get back to him as soon as she knew anything. Brandon finished his coffee and headed for the studio. He had meetings scheduled all morning, high-powered discussions about the offer on the table. The details were coming together; the lawyers from his agent’s office were almost finished looking over the document.

  His agent and manager still couldn’t believe a major studio was willing to sign him to a seven-movie deal. It was the sort of gargantuan contract actors today just weren’t offered. And the price tag per picture would put him in rare air, for sure. The discussions were about creative control and movie genres and leading ladies. No one asked Brandon whether he’d be willing to take the deal.

  That much was assumed.

  He stopped in the coffee shop on the first floor afterward, a place where even though people recognized him, they’d leave him alone. This was where he worked when he wasn’t on set, after all. The entire place was full of actors and directors and producers. The staff at the coffee shop had no real reason to overreact to his presence.

  As he crossed the lobby toward the corner, he thought about the deal again.

  God, Your blessings are amazing. Nothing about this contract is from me or my efforts. It’s from You, all from You.

  Bailey often talked about the silent prayers she would utter, and how God would put a response in her heart. A quiet whisper or a reminder of a Bible verse she’d read earlier. That happened to Brandon once in a while, but not here. He didn’t have time to think about the reason, because as he walked into the coffee shop he immediately spotted Dayne Matthews. He was talking to another producer, someone else in the world of faith films — from what Brandon remembered. Their conversation looked like it was just about over.

  “Hey.” Dayne spotted him and waved. “Brandon, come here. I’d like you to meet someone.”

  Brandon took the quickest path past a few other tables and gave Dayne a quick hug. Then he turned to the other man. “Hi. I’m Brandon.”

  “Yes.” The man laughed lightly as he shook Brandon’s hand. “I know who you are.”

  “Jared’s one of the producers I’ll be working with over the next few years.” Dayne grinned at the guy. “Lured him away from one of the biggest studios on the planet.”

  “I had to make a change. Wanted to be on a team that turned out movies I could take my daughter to see.” He looked at Dayne. “I figure there’s this tremendous interest in faith films and investors looking to make it happen.” He turned to Brandon again. “Dayne has the right idea. All we need is quality movies.”

  The exchange was easy and lighthearted. Not meant to be a slam at Brandon or at the movies he was about to agree to make. But the words hit him like so many darts, poking at his comfort level, and making him question himself for the first time since talks about the new contract came up. He dismissed the thoughts. There was room in the industry for those who made family-friendly or faith films, and at the same time room for Christians to star in more mainstream pictures.

  Jared had to go, so he shook Brandon’s hand once more and gave Dayne a light slap on his shoulder. “Great ideas, man. We’re going to take over the industry.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Again Brandon felt like he was on the wrong team. He took a quick breath. “You headed home?”

  “Not yet.” He glanced at the time on his phone. “I have another meeting in an hour.”

  Brandon wanted to ask what the big deal was, why the sudden spate of meeting
s, and how come he was only just hearing about big investment dollars being slated for faith films. But it didn’t seem the time. “Has Katy heard from Bailey?”

  “A few times. She should be here before the weekend, right?”

  “Yeah.” He laughed, but he didn’t feel at ease for some reason. “I wish it were today. I can’t wait to see her.”

  Dayne pointed to the closest table, the one in the corner, far from anyone else at the coffee shop. “Why don’t you get a coffee and talk for a few minutes. If you have time.”

  “I do.” The idea sounded perfect. “Want anything?”

  “I’m good.” Dayne acted like his fingers had the jitters. “Too much coffee already.”

  “Okay. Be right back.” Brandon slipped into line and ignored the whispers between the girls behind the counter. He was too busy thinking about the timing, how God must’ve planned for him to run into Dayne. He got his coffee and headed back to the corner table.

  “So, how are things? With Bailey … with life?” Dayne leaned back, his tone casual.

  “Good.” Brandon took a sip of his coffee. Dayne was someone Brandon wanted to know better, a guy who had once been where Brandon was, and who had allowed his faith to lead him even in his professional life — that and Bailey would be living with him and his wife. The two of them, Brandon and Dayne, were bound to get closer. “Like I said, I can’t wait to see her.”

  “You two have been dating for a while now. What? Almost a year?”

  “Almost.” Brandon couldn’t believe it had been that long. The time had flown by. “That makes me feel better about my plans for Valentine’s Day.”

  Dayne crossed his arms in front of him, curious. “What plans?”

  “Didn’t Katy tell you? About the engagement ring?”

  “What?” Dayne allowed his voice to raise a few notches. “No, she did not tell me about any engagement rings.” He tossed his hands. “I’m always the last to know.”

  Brandon laughed, glad again for the time with Dayne. “Yeah, Katy’s taking Bailey shopping when she gets in tomorrow. And Katy’s going to take her into a jewelry store — just like all casual and everything — and she’ll find out what sort of ring Bailey likes. Then I’ll go back to the same store on the thirteenth and buy it for Valentine’s Day—” He snapped his fingers. “Then I’ll be ready to ask her.”

  “Wow …” Dayne chuckled, but he had lost the lighthearted look from earlier. “Katy’s in on that plan?”

  “Yeah … of course.” Brandon felt a slight hint of awkwardness. “What … you think it’s too soon or something?”

  Dayne didn’t look uncomfortable. “Actually … I do. All things considered.”

  His words kicked Brandon in the gut. “I don’t know.” His laugh was a cover for the insecurity he felt. “Like I said … we’ve dated for almost a year. I’ve known her longer than that.”

  “I get it.” Dayne smiled, a deep kindness in his expression. “It’s not you, man. You’re ready … I believe that. But you need to think about her.”

  Brandon pictured him and Bailey kneeling in the sand on New Year’s Eve, wishing he had a ring so they could make their desires official. “We’ve talked about it.” He still wasn’t clear why Dayne felt this way. “I think she’s more ready than she might let on.”

  “Possibly.” Dayne slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, still calm. “The thing is, she just lost her job in New York and now she’s moving to LA for the first time, thinking about an acting career.” He made a face that said he could be wrong, but he doubted it. “Girls need time to settle in.”

  “Did Katy need time?” Brandon only knew what he’d seen in the tabloids back when the two of them were dating. Bailey had never talked about what went on behind the scenes with the couple.

  Dayne chuckled and gave a single nod of his head. “Yes. She needed time. She almost left me because of the business.”

  A strange feeling made Brandon’s soul feel uneasy. “Hmmm.”

  “And remember Bailey’s reaction to the paparazzi on New Year’s? She certainly didn’t take it in stride.”

  “But we can work on that, find ways around the media.” Brandon still didn’t see what that had to do with his desire to marry her. “We’ll always have to work on that issue. Waiting longer wouldn’t make a difference.”

  “I don’t mean a lot longer. Just give her time to settle in.” He chuckled again. “I mean, man, she’ll barely be off the plane on Valentine’s Day. Maybe give her time to unpack.”

  Again Brandon could tell from his tone that Dayne meant no harm by his advice. As much as it wasn’t what Brandon wanted to hear, he had to admit there might be wisdom in it. “So maybe later this spring?” The disappointment weighed heavy in his voice.

  “Yeah, something like that.” Dayne’s face turned thoughtful, pensive almost. “So word on the street is you’re looking at a new contract.”

  Brandon was glad for the change in topic. He grinned. “It’s amazing. Biggest contract this studio has ever offered.” The reminder made him feel dizzy. “It’s just a blessing … I mean, no one deserves the sort of money and marketing and attention this is going to get.”

  “Attention?” Dayne sat back, clearly curious. “You mean when they announce it?”

  “Right, it’s crazy.” He leaned on his forearms, excitement brimming from deep inside him. “They’re planning a red carpet party, everyone in the business invited. Catered, the whole deal.” Brandon laughed, still amazed at the details that came out of the meeting he’d just had. “A few of the top acts in music will perform at it. Justin Bieber … Rascal Flatts. Like, bigger than I ever could’ve dreamed.”

  Dayne nodded, listening, his smile easy. “Wow … I haven’t heard of that for a contract signing before. Will they announce the scope of the deal?”

  “Not really.” This was a point Brandon had been adamant on. “They’ll announce it one film at a time. And since box office incentives are built into the contract the amount could vary each time. So yeah, that makes more sense. But they’ll talk about my cut for the first film. So, seven films in four years … people can do the math and get a pretty good idea without us coming out and saying what the contract’s worth.” “Pretty big money.”

  “I can’t even think about it.” Brandon rarely let the numbers weigh on his mind. “When I do, I just ask God what He wants me to do with it all, like build a school for an African village or start up a ministry here in the inner city. Something big.”

  Dayne was quiet. “Have they talked about the sort of films you’ll do?”

  It was the first point in the conversation where Brandon felt the slightest disapproval from Dayne. The cafeteria was getting busier around them so they moved to a quiet booth where they could keep talking. “They have. It was a big sticking point for me.” He nodded, trying hard to look like the competent businessman he wanted to be — as best he could for a guy in his early twenties. “My agent helped work that out with the lawyers. Making sure I’ll have a right of refusal if they bring me a project I don’t like or something that compromises my faith.”

  “Really?” Dayne seemed surprised. “Usually with a big studio contract they keep most of the control. So did you tell them you didn’t want to do anything rated R?”

  Brandon blinked. “Not so much by the rating … like my agent said, some movies are rated R for theme, and really there’s a lot of redemptive storytelling that takes place.”

  “Yeah.” Dayne winced. “I could see an agent saying that.”

  Brandon’s frustration grew a little more with every minute. “Hey, Dayne, you’ve been this route.” He was careful to keep his tone from sounding rude. “If something about my contract’s bothering you, just tell me.”

  “Okay, I’ll be honest.” Dayne sighed and crossed his arms again, his attention completely on Brandon. “The studio doesn’t care about your faith, man. They care about making money. And if they think that means you need to be more of a bad boy, they’
ll do everything in their power to make you a bad boy. And I mean everything. Force you to attend the wrong parties, the ones they think are right. Set girls up to flock around you so the paparazzi will make it look like they caught you doing things you’re not even thinking of doing.” He didn’t laugh. “Believe me, Brandon, the studios don’t invest that kind of money without getting their own way when it comes to movie selection, image, leading ladies. Whatever they think will put people in the seats.”

  Brandon nodded. Deep down he knew this, right? He’d known it from the beginning. But he’d never thought of it that way, that some of the situations he’d been in might’ve been set up by the studio. Allowed, maybe. Approved of, even. But set up by his employers? The possibility that the paparazzi pictures from a night on the town could in some way be the doing of the marketing department of one or another film he’d been in?

  Dayne must’ve seen how surprised Brandon was. “Picture it,” he continued. “You’re done filming, ready for a night out. You get a call from your agent or someone at your management company. They tell you about a party — an exclusive, an invitation from another celeb. They tell you where and when to go, and they make it seem like they’re doing you a favor.” He paused, his eyes locked on Brandon’s. “Right? Isn’t that how it works?”

  “Well …” Brandon felt sick, like he wasn’t sure he could stand if he wanted to. Again he hated looking at those moments in this exact light. “Sometimes. Yeah, that’s happened. But that was before.”

  “Before your last two movies, maybe. But with this contract it’ll be every time.” Dayne frowned. “Remember, Brandon. I was you just a few years ago. A puppet in the hands of a studio, thinking I was running my own life. In the end there was only one way out.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Just wanted to share that with you. Since they’re offering such a big contract.”