“If he’s on my mother’s payroll, he’s the enemy. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past year, it’s that. With the exception of you, of course,” I tell him, pasting a fake smile on my face to hide the pain my words bring.
I can feel Finn’s eyes on me, but I refuse to look over at him. I can’t stand the look of pity that I know is on his face.
“Not every guy you meet is going to be like Sam,” Finn says softly.
I bite down on my bottom lip and squeeze my eyes closed to ward off the memories that name brings, but it’s no use. They overwhelm me and I can’t help but succumb to them, just like I do every time I think of him.
Stepping into the bathroom at the Los Angeles Staples Center during a commercial break at the Grammys, I rush into an empty stall while Finn stands guard just outside the door, and Sam waits for me back in our seats. As I secure the lock on the bathroom door, a sparkle catches my eye, and I glance down at the six carat, radiant-cut diamond on the ring finger of my left hand. After seven months of dating, Sam dropped down on one knee and proposed last week. It was fast, I was young, and Finn wouldn’t stop listing all the reasons why it was a bad idea to marry Sam Stettner, a twenty-eight-year-old rising star in the country music industry. Sam liked to call me his lucky charm. He’d been trying to make a break in the industry for years, and a few weeks after we started dating, his new album went to the top of the charts, and he’d been in high demand ever since.
Finn just didn’t understand how lonely I was. Finn had never been lonely a day in his life; women always wanted to be close to him or love him. The small handful of relationships I’d had over the years always fizzled quickly. The guys couldn’t handle my tour schedule or other people demanding my attention. Mostly, they couldn’t handle the fact that I was a huge star, their egos often getting the best of them and the green-eyed monster of jealousy rearing its ugly head. But Sam was different. He was happy for all of my success, and since he was in the business, he understood everything that being a singer entailed. He supported whatever decision I made, and for the first time, my mother and I were actually civil to one another. She liked the idea of Sam and I together and fully supported our upcoming marriage. Normally, the things my mother wanted me to do made me cringe, and I attempted to do the exact opposite just to piss her off. But I couldn’t do that with Sam. I loved him too much to be petty.
As I hung my red sparkly clutch, that matched my Badgley Mischka dress perfectly, on the hook behind the door, two female voices broke the silence in the spacious bathroom. Instantly, I recognized them and smiled to myself. Chloe and Aubrey were my two back-up singers. Both had been with me since the very beginning. They were three years older than me, and growing up on the road as a teenager, they helped me with my homework and gave me advice on boys that I couldn’t or wouldn’t ask my mother for. They were good friends, and I was glad to have them in my life.
“Did you get a look at that gaudy rock he stuck on her finger? Jesus. Talk about obvious. I’ll take 'I’m Trying to Buy Your Trust’ for two-thousand, Alex.'” Chloe laughed as I heard the faucet turn on.
“She is so damn clueless it’s sad. I almost feel bad about fucking him last week while she was at the studio, but then I remembered how much money she makes in just one fucking weekend and it doesn’t seem to bother me anymore,” Aubrey added, the contempt obvious in her voice.
I held my fingers still against the door lock where they froze seconds ago when the conversation began. I had begun to leave the stall to say hello, but now I couldn’t do anything but stand here holding my breath with my heart beating out of my chest.
They weren’t talking about me. There was no way this could be about Sam and me. They wouldn’t do that to me.
“It’s not her fault her mother bribed him to go out with her by guaranteeing his music would see the light of day, and he got a bonus for scoring a ‘yes’ when he popped the question. With a ring her mother bought using her money, no less,” Chloe told Aubrey with obvious fake pity lacing her voice. “But really, have you ever met anyone so stupid?”
The water turned off and the sounds of purses unzipping and compacts opening and closing took its place.
“Layla walks around here like she’s such hot shit. I’m so sick of it. If you ask me, she deserves to marry that greedy dick,” Aubrey added with scorn. “But oh what a dick it is!”
The two women cackled together like witches while they finished touching up their make-up and walked out of the bathroom, never noticing Finn standing guard around the corner, completely oblivious to the devastated occupant in the bathroom.
I faked a stomach bug once I was finally able to pull myself up off of the bathroom floor that night. With one look, Finn knew I didn’t have any kind of bug. He could read it all over my face.
“I would never say that to you. Unless of course you completely lose your mind and take that idiot back. At which point, I might have to give you some harsh, strongly worded pieces of wisdom. ”
I forced out a watery laugh and burrowed my face deeper into Finn’s neck as he tightened his arms around me.
“I’m so sorry, Layla. I can’t believe Eve would do that to you. That heartless bitch is getting a piece of my mind when she gets home tonight,” Finn stated angrily.
“No!” I exclaimed loudly, pulling my head away from the comfort of him so I could look at his face. “You also have to promise me that you’ll leave it alone. Leave Eve alone. She’s already threatened to go to the tabloids about your past and—”
Finn reached a hand up and covered my mouth with his fingers. “Hush. I’m not afraid of Eve. I’m sick and tired of her doing this to you. I can’t just stand by and let it continue to happen.
I pulled his fingers away from my mouth and put on an air of confidence that I didn’t feel.
“I’ll be fine. I’m strong. I can handle whatever she throws at me, you know that. You’re my best friend, Finn. I would never forgive myself if she went through with her threats. You finally have some peace in your life. You’ve forgiven yourself for the things that happened in Afghanistan. You’ve moved on with your life and all of that is buried now. I will not let her bring everything out into the open and ruin that for you.”
Finn pulled me in closer and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.
“We’ll find a way. I swear to God, someday we will find a way to make that woman pay,” Finn promised.
When Sam called to check up on me a few days after the Grammys, I told him I didn't love him, and I kept the ring. Sam sure as hell wasn’t getting it back. I figured since it came out of my money, I might as well pawn it and give the proceeds to charity. My mother was beside herself when I told her I called off the engagement, saying I always ruin everything and that I should be ashamed of myself for hurting a perfectly good man.
I could have thrown it all back in her face, told her exactly what I overheard in the bathroom that day, letting her know I was finally finished with her manipulations.
I know exactly how far that would've got me. I know what happens when you defy my mother, and I will never make that same mistake again. I'm still paying the price for the one time I dared to stand up to her, still fielding questions from reporters who just won't let it go. I'm struggling to not feel ashamed for being so weak and backing down so easily when she won't budge just one little inch in regards to my music. All I want to do is record one song of my own. One. Just to see if it will go anywhere. Eve Carlysle doesn’t let anyone make decisions like that but her. If it were just about me, I'd take her wrath again and again without hesitation. But it's not just about me. Finn’s life and his well-being are at stake as well. Eve would crush him and the progress he’s made since the war without batting an eye. She made her intentions known the first time he even hinted at exposing her and what she’s done to me over the years. Finn told me all about the fight he had with her when he was first hired as my bodyguard. How she threatened to tell everyone that he wasn’t the good guy he claimed
to be. She had found out about how the war and PTSD finally caught up to him one night overseas. He had killed innocent civilians and did things he was ashamed of, things he couldn’t even bare to share with me they were so ugly. He was dishonorably discharged from the marines because of his actions, but Eve made sure those files were sealed so she would always have something to hold over his head. She changed the past, altered his records, and used the information she’d garnered to keep him close and make sure he did exactly what she told him to do. I know Finn is a good person and he didn’t mean to hurt anyone. It was all just too much for him, and he lost it for a little while. But he came home, got help, and healed himself and his wounded soul. As much as Finn and I love and care about each other, there's nothing we can do to change things. Finn has kept his promise these last eight months and never once said “I told you so” or tried to stand up to Eve again. I owe him everything and I will do whatever it takes to make sure he is never on the receiving end of her wrath again.
“I know not every guy is like Sam, but every guy will do exactly what Eve says,” I remind him as we pull around the back of the Nashville Convention Center to get ready for the sound check for tonight’s performance. “I mean look at this whole stalker thing she’s contrived. A few weird letters from some guy over the course of a few months and suddenly she feels the need to act like a mother for the first time in her life and hire some thug off the street with a bad boy complex to step all over your toes. And of course she looks like a saint for doing it,” I complain, my arms gesturing around me wildly as I grow more and more agitated when I think about my mother’s actions.
“It was disgusting watching her stand at the head of the conference room table earlier and stare me down with all that fake compassion and concern,” I continue, venom dripping from my voice as Finn puts the car in park but doesn’t kill the engine. “That stupid, ‘I’m an excellent mother’ persona she only exhibits in the company of others. Everyone around that table ate it up and believed the worry she had for me was actually genuine. There was nothing I could do but concede; otherwise I would just look like an ungrateful bitch.”
Finn nods his head in agreement but remains silent. “Especially when I swore I saw the makings of tears in her eyes—the perfect ruse to get everyone in the room on her side as she worried for her poor daughter’s safety. Give me a fucking break.”
We sat quietly for a few moments, listening to the hum of the engine, both of us staring straight ahead at the huge arena in front of us, lost in our own thoughts. Finn is the first one to speak.
“I’ve seen those letters, Layla. They were weird as hell. This guy travels to every single concert you ever do. He’s made personal assessments about your performances that even the tabloids haven’t caught on to. He’s watching you really closely, and I have to be honest, that scares the shit out of me. And it should scare you as well. You have no idea what this creepy fuck is capable of. You have no idea what else he already knows about you. I agree with Eve on the fact that we need to be extra concerned when it comes to your safety. I just don’t understand why she felt the need to go behind my back to make that happen.”
I clench my jaw in anger and take a couple of deep, calming breaths before I reply.
“Okay, so you've read the letters that we still aren’t even sure are real. But while you were busy doing that in her office before we left to come here, my lovely mother cornered me right outside the conference room. It’s pretty obvious what her intentions are.”
“Was it really necessary to hire a stranger to look into those letters? Finn is perfectly capable of doing his job,” I told my mother as we stood outside the conference room after everyone had left the building and Finn disappeared to check on something before we followed. “Don’t be so naïve, Layla. Finn is okay at what he does, but he doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. It never hurts to have someone else looking into this thing,” she told me distractedly as she scrolled through emails on her Blackberry.
“Finn is more than okay at his job and you know it. There has to be another reason you’re doing this, and it doesn’t have anything to do with being concerned about my safety.”
Eve finally looked up from her phone and threw an annoyed look my way, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing together.
“If you’re not safe, we don’t make money, plain and simple. And obviously, having a stalker is always good for publicity. It makes the fans concerned for you and feel sympathetic towards you. By hiring outside help, there’s no way it can be kept a secret. It will be public knowledge by this time tomorrow, and you’ll have everyone eating out of your hands,” she explained, glancing back down at her phone.
“I am not going to deceive my fans. They respect me and they believe in me. What happens when they find out this was all a hoax just to make them feel sorry for me?” I questioned angrily.
“It’s all part of the business, Hummingbird.”
I visibly winced when she used my father’s nickname for me and said it with such scorn in her voice. She knew how much I hated it when she called me that.
“And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t question my decisions again. Otherwise, your precious fans will have a field day when they find out you suddenly went back into rehab,” she said maliciously as she tossed her phone inside of her new Louis Vuitton purse, crossed her arms in front of her, and stared me down. “That little pill problem of yours was a pesky one to put a positive spin on, but I did it. And it can be done again. You think the reporters hound you now about your little stint at Betty Ford, imagine what kind of rabid dogs they’ll turn into if you go back. Obviously, this would all work in my favor because publicity is publicity, and it still sells records. But do you really want all those questions to start again? 'Why did you want to kill yourself, Layla?' 'How could you possibly leave your poor mother behind when she’s done so much for you?' 'You have it all, how could you hate your life so much?' Now, get your ass over to the convention center and stop trying to act like you’re in charge. I own you. I will always own you and you better get used to it, hummingbird.”
I block out the conversation with my mother that was entirely like all the rest of our conversations over the years as Finn finally shuts the car off and we leave the cool comfort of the air conditioning.
“I know we have a right to question Eve’s motives about everything. I’ll quit bugging you about the stalker thing, but in the meantime I’ll do some legwork on this Brady guy and see what his story is. I still have military connections, and they can tell me if he’s on the up and up or just another one of your mother’s puppets. In the meantime, don’t give him any ammunition to use against you. Don’t do anything stupid and tone down the diva ‘tude just a notch when you’re around him,” Finn says with a cocky smile.
“This 'diva ‘tude' is essential to my well-being, my little minion,” I throw back at him, trying to lighten the mood as we knock on a back door to the arena that says Performers Only and wait for it to be answered.
Finn and I both know that pretending to be a music diva is the only thing that keeps me sane most of the time. I can don the fancy clothes and the expensive jewelry and take on an air of sophistication and thinly veiled annoyance with those beneath me like it's a second skin. I have perfected that act over the years, and it’s turned into a perfectly constructed wall that keeps my heart and mind intact and barely bruised. I can pretend like I don’t care what people say about me, ignore the hate my mother surrounds me with, and act like my life is one big deliriously happy ball of parties, awards shows, and concerts. Finn is the only person in the world who knows the real me, who knows all of my hopes and dreams and the pain that eats away at my soul every time I get up on stage and fake a smile and happiness I never feel. Not even Sam, the man I thought I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with, had known the real me. The fact that I never even thought about showing him my father’s guitar should have been a warning sign that I didn’t really trust him. We were d
oomed from the start, and that’s the only thing that makes all of it easier to handle.
A big, burly man with a bald head and skull earring hanging off of one ear finally answers our knock and shares a head nod with Finn before opening the door wider and letting us in.
“Miss Carlysle, it’s good to see you again,” the man says, his voice pleasant and soft and the complete opposite of his appearance.
“Thank you, Bones. It’s good to see you too. Is the band already here?” I ask as we step through the door and follow him down a long, dark hallway.
“Yep, already setting up on stage. Some dude who said he was with security just got here a few minutes ago too. Name’s Brady. He’s on the list your mom gave me so I let him in already. He’s sitting in the back row.”
I thank Bones and Finn shares a handshake with him after he escorts us to the back stage area where I can already hear my bass player running through the scales and my drummer warming up with basic rudiments.
“Oh goody, Brady’s here!” I exclaim to Finn with fake enthusiasm.
“Don’t even try to pretend like the idea of him sitting there in the dark, in the very back row, with his face all broody and stubbly doesn’t get your panties all in a bunch.”
Finn gets a punch in the arm for that comment and my middle finger in his face before I walk away from him and up the stairs leading to the stage to warm up my voice and try NOT to think about the man at the back of the auditorium, watching my every move, and wondering if he’s the enemy.
Like nails on a fucking chalkboard.
This music is going to drive me right back to drinking, I swear to Christ. All of this techno-electric shit is giving me a headache. Whatever happened to just sitting down at a microphone with an acoustic and a kick ass drummer?
Even though my ears are bleeding with all the synthesizing going on and the top forty, cheesy lyrics, I can’t help but notice how amazing Layla looks on stage. She lights up the whole damn place as she rocks her hips to the beat and struts back and forth from one end of the stage to the other, making sure to use up all available space so the audience who will see her tonight will get their money’s worth. Her choreographed moves are sensual without being over the top and fun without being too campy. I can tell they’ll be just enough to get the younger members of the audience excited and have them jumping in unison with her while the older male members, probably forced to bring their daughters to the concert, wish they knew what she looked like naked. She’s the perfect blend of entertaining and hot on stage.