“One could lead to the other.”
“And if anyone tries to take Linda away,
we’ll hire a lawyer.”
Again her gaze snapped to his, serious Maddox
now, ready to ride to her rescue. It was so tempting to let him.
But she just…couldn’t. He’d left her once without looking back, and
she knew how to take care of herself now.
“It’s better if I just handle this on my own.
Go home, Maddox.” He set his jaw stubbornly, but she held her
ground. “It’s my problem, not yours. It’s better for me if you’re
not in the picture.”
He looked like he wanted to do something, but
instead backed toward his truck. “I’m not going far. I’ll check
back with you in a couple of days.”
She shook her head. “I’ll come to you if I
need you.” Which she wouldn’t, because she wouldn’t let
herself.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Will you?”
Damn him for knowing her so well. She didn’t
answer, couldn’t honestly and expect him to leave. She took a step
back toward the house, hoping he would leave before she gave in to
the tears that burned her throat. “Good-bye, Maddox.”
His jaw set in a stubborn line, he climbed
into the truck and closed the door. She forced herself to watch as
he drove away.
That night, the size of the crowd at Quinn’s
doubled. Maddox had no idea where all these people came from, and
from the look of Quinn and his staff of six waitresses who were
being run off their feet, Quinn didn’t know, either. But they’d
clearly come to hear him, and they were spending money. He hoped
they stuck around to see the charms of the town, and he said so
between songs.
“Make sure you stick around to go out on a
boat, maybe do some fishing, see the natural beauty that surrounds
us here in Bluestone,” he said. He was here as a commercial, after
all.
During his break, Maddox took Linda’s arm and
drew her toward Quinn’s office.
“Did you say something at school about your
sister and me?”
She gave him an affronted look and yanked her
arm free. “No. God. What makes you say that?”
“We haven’t done a lot of publicity about me
being up here, and suddenly we have all these folks. Just wondering
the cause, is all.”
“You mean people don’t know where you
are?”
“No one with anything to do with my career.”
Or his private life.
She narrowed her eyes. “I thought the point
of you coming out here was so people would come to see you.”
His shoulders tightened. Had he told her too
much? “Yeah, well, word of mouth. I asked not to advertise.
Otherwise I’d have people on my ass to make me go home and
rehearse.”
“You may not have noticed, but you’re an
adult. People shouldn’t have to tell you what to do.”
“But I make a lot of money for a lot of
people. It gives them the right to boss me around.”
She glanced over her shoulder toward the bar.
“So you think they figured out where you are?” She turned back to
him, hands on her hips, a stubborn expression that made him think
of her sister. “And because you slept with my sister last night you
think I told them. How would I even do that?”
“It’s the way of gossip. It spreads fast.
Your sister said you were pretty pissed.”
Linda flung her hand out. “Well! She always
acts high and mighty and when she found out I was pregnant she
flipped out and acted like she’d never done anything like that, and
it turns out she had, with you, and then you come back and she’s
all acting like she doesn’t care, and then she spends the night
with you?”
“Your sister is very protective, both of you
and of her own feelings.”
“Yeah, well she could be honest about it
instead of making like she’s St. Beth.”
“But she has been St. Beth, for a long time
now. She should be married by now, or in love. Do you remember her
even having a boyfriend?”
Linda huffed. “No.”
“Why do you suppose?”
“Because you broke her?” the girl lashed
out.
That hit a little close to home, and he
winced. “Maybe. But maybe because she didn’t want to leave you.
Maybe she didn’t want you to get attached to someone who was going
to leave. And because she was setting a good example. And we all
see how well that worked out.”
Linda made a face.
Quinn appeared then. “You’d better either
start playing again or sneak out the back door,” he told Maddox.
“They’re getting restless in here.”
“Be careful what you wish for, huh?” Maddox
asked, and slipped past Linda through the crowd and back to the
stage.
He didn’t get out of Quinn’s until almost
two-thirty, and thought about all the nights he’d met Beth and how
he’d looked forward to that. He should go get her, drive out to the
lake and stretch out in the back of his truck watching the stars,
the rest of the world be damned.
Only she’d told him good-bye and she meant
it. Punishing herself, probably, for not being perfect, for making
what she considered another mistake. So he’d leave her alone
tonight, but tomorrow he’d find a way to make her see walking away
from him was the bigger mistake.
Beth tucked her hair behind her ear and
approached the table piled with glasses. God, where had those bus
boys gone? No one was going to sit at a dirty table, which meant no
tips, and God, she needed tips. She stacked the glasses and piled
them into the plastic tub, then reached for the glossy magazine
tossed carelessly beneath. She caught her breath when she turned
the cover over and saw a picture of Maddox. It was an older
picture—she’d seen it before when he’d been in and out of rehab,
sunglasses shading his eyes, stubble shadowing the lower half of
his face, his straw hat pulled low.
But the headline was what made her heart
seize.
“Maddox Bradley Missing Rehearsals—Back in
Rehab?”
Was that where they thought he was? Did
people think he was drinking again? This wasn’t a gossip rag—it was
a reputable magazine. She folded up the magazine and stuffed it in
her apron. She’d read it when she got a break.
Only she couldn’t wait that long. She excused
herself from the floor and ducked into the bathroom, sitting on the
toilet to read it. She skimmed, holding her breath as she did so.
The article talked about the car accident he’d had before he came
to Bluestone, slamming his sports car into a tree. Though his blood
alcohol test had been negative, the reporter speculated there was a
problem, enough for him to disappear.
Apparently the reporter had visited the
rehabilitation centers Maddox had used in the past, to no avail.
The few quotes from Maddox’s manager made Maddox’s whereabouts even
more suspicious. Then the reporter implied that this latest round
of rehab would be the end of his career.
Beth couldn’t let that happen. But how could
she fix it?
“Miss Lapointe!” Her manager’s voice boomed
through the bathroom door. “What are you doing in there?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well.” She tucked
the magazine back into her apron and opened the stall door. She
walked over to the sink and washed her hands, drying them quickly.
She swung the door open to face her boss, whose face was
florid.
“You’ve left your tables for too long, and
they’re complaining.”
She pressed her hand to her stomach. “I’m
sorry. I got sick.”
“You should have handed your tables off to
another waitress, but you’re too selfish for that.”
“I beg your pardon?”
The big man folded his arms over his belly.
“The other girls tell me you take their tables, their tips, and
you’re not even friendly about it.”
Beth lifted her hand to her forehead, as if
that would help her understand his words. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I’m going to have to let you go. I need team
players here, Miss Lapointe, and you aren’t one.”
“Are you kidding?” For that? And what about
the money her father needed? “I need this job, sir. I never knew
anything about the complaints. Please, can I have another chance?”
She took a step forward and the magazine fell from her apron.
Mr. Pritchett bent to pick it up, glanced at
it and gave her a look. “You’re hiding in the bathroom to read a
gossip rag?”
“No. I—I’ve never done such a thing. Like I
said, I don’t feel well.”
But Mr. Pritchett wasn’t buying it. “You need
to clean out your locker. Return your uniform here tomorrow,
cleaned.”
He walked away, and she sagged against the
door. What was she going to do now?
How much more humiliation could a person
take? Beth stood outside Quinn’s office, took a deep breath, and
knocked.
“Come in,” Quinn’s gruff voice came through
the heavy wooden door, reminiscent of Pritchett’s in the bathroom
just last night.
Her hand shook as she turned the handle and
she stepped into the tiny cluttered office. What was she worried
about? This was Quinn. He was gruff, but he looked out for her. He
looked up from his paperwork and lifted his eyebrows in
surprise.
“I’d like to apply for my old job, if I
can.”
He leaned back in his chair and tapped the
pen against her lips. “What happened?”
“I—no longer work at the casino.”
Apparently he picked up on what she didn’t
say. “What happened?”
“I was fired for reading a magazine in the
bathroom.”
Quinn was out of his seat in an instant.
“What the hell? You want me to go beat some sense into them? That’s
nuts. You’d never do something like that.”
That he was willing to do that put her at an
odd ease, and she sat in front of him. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. I
got about half of what I need. I just—need a job. I was hoping you
could hire me back.”
“Of course you can have your job back. Hell,
Beth, you’re the best waitress I’ve ever had. You can start as soon
as you’re ready.”
“Thanks.” Her shoulders sagged. “I’ll start
tonight if that’s all right.”
“Sure.”
She backed out the door.
“Everything else okay?” he asked, drawing her
up short.
Quinn never asked anything personal so of
course she knew he was talking about Maddox. Which meant he knew
she had been sleeping with Maddox. Which meant men gossiped just as
much as women. For a moment she considered telling him what she’d
done, contacting the editor of the magazine about Maddox. What was
done, was done, and if she’d made a mistake, well, she’d own this
one, too.
“I’m just dandy. Better now that I have a
job.”
“You aren’t going to have problem working
here with Linda, are you? I know you two aren’t really getting
along.”
“We’ll be fine, though it would probably be
best if you don’t put me in charge of her section.”
“Noted. It’s good to have you back where you
belong, Beth.”
“It’s good to be back.” And she meant it. She
smiled and turned away to leave.
She was more nervous than she should have
been, starting back at her old job. But she hadn’t seen Maddox
since he’d come by her house after she’d slept over, and she didn’t
exactly know what to say to him. Not to mention her mind was
spinning with thoughts of that magazine article. Had he seen it?
Did he care? He’d had articles written about his drinking before,
but this time, it wasn’t true. Did that bother him?
A few days ago she could have asked him.
Now…
Maddox saw her the moment he walked in, and
reached her side before she could retreat behind the bar. “Are you
working here again?” he demanded.
“I am.”
“You quit the casino?”
Her shoulders stiffened. Her pride wouldn’t
let her tell him she was fired. If he needed to know, Quinn could
tell him. “I no longer work there.”
His eyebrows drew together. “So you’re back
in town. That’s good.”
“And you’re leaving Sunday, right?”
This time his body tightened. “I have that
concert next Wednesday.”
“I understand why you have to leave, Maddox.
No one is accusing you of anything.”
He glanced toward the stage. “You’ll be
around when I get off?”
“Probably beyond that. But, Maddox—”
He didn’t stick around to hear the end of her
sentence.
The blonde who walked up to the bar was not
the run-of-the-mill tourist, or the run-of-the-mill groupie, for
that matter. Beth had seen enough of them come through the bar, and
they generally moved in packs, which was weird to Beth’s mind. Did
they not really want to get with Maddox, because why else would
they travel with their own competition? Anyway, this woman was
different. She was alone, for one thing. She walked up to the bar
and ordered a draft, and turned to watch Maddox with a knowing
look.
Beth’s gut twisted. An old girlfriend. She
had to be. Had she tracked Maddox down? What did she want from him?
Beth flicked a glance at the woman’s flat stomach. Could she be
pregnant? A cold, dark feeling she didn’t recognize spread through
her. She was going to lose him for good this time.
She gave herself a shake. She was not like
this, borrowing trouble. She usually had enough to keep her
occupied. And besides, she’d already resigned herself to losing
Maddox. But suddenly the thought of never kissing him again hurt
worse than anything.
Idiot. She’d gone and fallen in love
again.
She passed by the woman, closer than she
needed to, just to get a better look. To her surprise, the woman
met her gaze and smiled.
“Are you Beth?”
Beth almost dropped the tray she was
carrying. She edged to the bar and set it down cautiously. “How do
you know my name?”
“I’m Viveca Solomon from Persons of Interest
Magazine. You called earlier this week?”
Now the black feeling coiled in on itself and
turned to lead. Beth was surprised it didn’t drag her down. She’d
brought a reporter to town, and that couldn’t be good.