Love Songs (23 page)

“You believe what you want to believe, but he’s feeding you lies. They are all lies.” She was so close Clara could feel the woman’s breath on her skin. “He ran out on her when she needed him most.”

“He left to pick up the pieces of his life. He changed.”

“And he left Mindy there in the hands of that man who killed her.”

“She took the drugs. She drank the booze.”

The piercing stare from Patricia was frightening. The look in her eyes was just like that of Alexander Hamilton’s before his hand knocked her to the ground that night he tried to burn down the theater and leave her locked inside.

“What about the baby? Huh? Oh he didn’t tell you she was pregnant?”

Clara was sure the woman had just kicked her in the gut.

“See, he’s been lying to you the whole time. He’s responsible for her death. And if you stay with him he’ll be responsible for your death—even if it’s only your career that dies.”

Clara felt the tears falling down her warm cheeks and the breath in her lungs was coming in short bursts.

The sound of the crowd beyond them erupted in applause. Patricia looked out onto the stage and then back at Clara. “He’s never going to change. He’s going to lie to you for the rest of his life. And if you think a man can walk away from that lifestyle forever you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”

Patricia turned and walked way into the dark hallway that lead to the corridor just as the band cleared the stage.

Clara stood at the wall where Patricia had left her. The tears streamed down her cheeks and her body shook with the sobs.

Trent noticed her right away and hurried to her.

“Clara, are you okay? Oh, God. What happened?”

Clara could only look up at him. She could hardly even make out who it was, her sobs were so loud in her ears and the mascara running down her face had nearly blinded her.

Trent laid his guitar down and pulled her into his arms. “C’mon, it’s okay.”

She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him as he stroked her hair.

“Shh, get a breath in you.”

Clara forced herself to breathe through her tears.

“What got you so upset?”

“Patricia Little,” she managed to get the name out.

“Figures.”

He held her tight and let her cry out her pain. When she felt as though she could breathe again he pulled back just far enough to look at her. She figured she was a horrific site, but he only smiled.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m tired. I’m just so tired.”

He smiled. “Let me put my guitar away and I’ll see you back to the hotel.”

He gave her a kiss on the top of her head and then walked away with his guitar.

Clara gritted her teeth. She wanted to believe Warner. She did believe Warner—or so she thought.

Clara waited for Trent and he helped her to a car that waited for them. The tears were back, but she’d managed to clean up the trails of makeup which had stained her face.

He let her rest her head on his shoulder and held her close as she cried out the rest of her tears.

When Warner called during their ride to the hotel she silenced the call. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not yet.

When the car pulled up in front of the hotel Trent stepped out and held his hand out to help her from the car.

He walked her all the way to her room with his arm around her shoulders.

As she slid the key into the lock she turned back to him. “Thank you so much for being there for me tonight.”

“Remember, that’s what friends are for.” He smiled kindly. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes.” She let out a breath. “One more day and I can talk to him face to face. She just caught me off guard tonight.”

Trent nodded. “I told you, she’s a witch.”

Clara laughed. “I don’t think that was the word you used.”

He nodded. I’m trying to clean it up before that baby gets here and his first word is a four letter one.”

“Your wife is very lucky to have you.”

“I tell her that all the time.” He kissed her on the cheek as he had the night before. “Goodnight, Clara. Call me if you need anything.”

She nodded and closed the door.

She sucked in a long deep breath and slid down the door to the ground.

The tears were back, but this time they were angry tears and not aimed at Warner, but at herself for falling apart. If there had been a baby Warner would have told her. If there was a baby then he didn’t know anything about that. Patricia Little had been trying to make his life hell since he was ten. Why wouldn’t she go after the wife and make her second guess him too?

It was then her phone buzzed a text message in her hand. She looked down to see the words
I love you.
That was what she needed. Even if Warner knew about a baby, that was almost fifteen years ago. He hadn’t killed her or a baby. Mindy had been a lost cause long before that. Warner fixed his life and she was proud to be his wife.

She texted him back.
I love you too.

Warner walked into the interview room and sat down where instructed. There was a pitcher of water and a glass next to him so he poured some water and took a sip.

The interviewer began his questions and they discussed his writing and the songs he and Randy had penned the day before. They talked about Clara’s performances opening up for Savannah.

He was so proud of her. And to think, he’d be holding her in his arms by tomorrow night. That made him smile and the interviewer even asked why.

“I miss my wife. But she’ll be home tomorrow for a few days.”

Within an hour they were done and Warner walked down the hall toward Jeremy Smith’s office.

“Hey, you sounded good in there.”

“Thanks,” Warner said as he sat down in front of Jeremy’s desk.

“So your wife comes home tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Can’t wait.”

“Ah, newlyweds.” Jeremy laughed. “I set up a meeting for the next day, so don’t be staying up all night, if you know what I mean.”

Warner’s phone buzzed a message and he pulled it from his pocket. “I will try to get some sleep,” he said as he cleared the screen to see the message.

It was a photo, sent from the same phone number as the message about Mindy.

When the images came up they were of Clara.

Warner felt his jaw tighten and the heat of his body rose.

There was his wife in the arms of that guitar player from the other band. Her head was on his shoulder. In the next picture he was kissing her head. But the one that had his blood boiling was them hugging in the doorway of her hotel room.

Another text came through.
Think she misses you? It’s hard to remain loyal when you’re on the road.

Jeremy leaned forward. “Everything okay, Warner?”

“Fine. Everything is fine.” But he knew that his voice conveyed his very thoughts. “Are we done for today? I need to get home.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go. Let me know if you need anything.”

Warner nodded, stood, and left the building. It would appear he had some packing to do.

He was grateful that the house was empty when he got there. There wasn’t much that was his and he wasn’t a thief, so nothing would go with him if he didn’t bring it.

The old mattress and bed they had stored in the garage was the hardest part to move by himself, but somehow he managed to get it in the truck.

As he filled up a box with his clothes he heard the front door open. He winced. It would have been best if it was Clara walking in, but he knew better. He’d have to deal with Christian before he could even tell Clara that he didn’t appreciate her blatant infidelity.

“Warner, are you up there?” Christian called up the stairs.

He winced. “Yes.”

Nothing more was said until Warner hurried down the steps with a box.

“Did you give that old bed away?”

“No.” He walked out the front door and carried the box to the truck. When he came back in Christian was waiting for him.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“Whoa!” He held his hand out to stop Warner from going up the stairs. “What’s this about?”

“It’s just best. I think we’ve made a mistake here and I’m just fixing it.”

He tried to move past Christian, but he was quick. In a split second Christian had a hold of the front of Warner’s shirt.

“Clara is kicking you out?”

“No. I’m leaving on my own.”

“She didn’t tell me this. If she’d have kicked you out we’d all be here helping you pack. What the hell is going on?”

Warner bit down on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t like to call people out, but this called for desperate measures.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed Christian the pictures that had been sent.

Christian took a step back. “There has to be some mistake. Clara wouldn’t…”

“Clara obviously did.” He started back up the stairs and Christian followed.

“Man, this isn’t right. We were not raised like this.”

“Ya know, I’m tired of hearing how amazing the Keller family is. It looks like at least one of you made a mistake. Is that such a shocker?”

“Don’t do that. You haven’t talked to her have you?”

“No. When I called last night she didn’t answer and now I know why.”

Christian ran his hand over the top of his head. “Dude, this isn’t how she rolls.”

“It’s not how I roll either.” Warner gathered his toiletries and threw them into a box. “In fact, I shared with her everything I had ever done. I laid my whole life on the line for judgment and this is what I get in return. I don’t know why I thought this would be any different.”

He pushed past Christian and down the stairs. This time Christian didn’t follow. He guessed he knew even his infallible sister might make a mistake too.

***

Clara couldn’t get on stage fast enough. She hadn’t talked to Warner all day and she just wanted this show over so she could get home and see her husband.

She’d slept on Patricia’s words all night and they just didn’t add up. Somewhere deep down Clara knew she was lying about the baby.

If Warner knew anything about it, or even if it wasn’t his, he was the kind of man who would have taken care of her. He wouldn’t have let her stay and die.

“Clara! Clara!” Trent was running toward her.

“What? I’m going out.”

“Don’t you leave this arena until we are done. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” she said softly as she reached for her guitar. “Are you okay?”

“No I’m not okay. I’m so pissed right now I can’t see straight. And you’re going to get this fixed or so help me…”

They announced her. She had to go. But what was he talking about?

Clara nearly stumbled out onto the stage, looking back to see Trent there with his hands fisted on his hips and his eyes narrowed on her.

She put on her smile and looked out into the arena. The filled seats were fewer than the shows before. Was word spreading that the girl and her guitar just weren’t worth getting to the arena early enough for?

She’d done a radio interview earlier that day and warded off three different Patricia Little questions when they were asked. How did Warner manage to do that day to day?

Clara began her set and the few people in front of the stage were even singing along. Okay, the guy from the radio did say someone had posted her on YouTube.

The seating picked up as she cruised through her set, but Trent still stood on the side glaring at her. What could she have possibly done?

When her set was done she waved to the crowed, which had nearly doubled in size. There was no set to tear down for her so
The Broke Tourists
stood waiting for their turn. Each of them narrowed their stare on her.

“I know you want to rush home to your husband, but if you’re not standing right here when I get off stage I’ll hunt you down.”

The band was announced and they headed out to a thunderous applause. Their second single was racing up the charts and the crowd wanted to see them. But what was the mystery?

Tom Wheeler headed her way as she placed her guitar in its case.

“Sounded good.”

Clara forced a smile. “Thank you.”

“Listen, you’ve got a PR nightmare brewing. It needs to get handled quickly. You need representation and you need it quick.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“Consider working with me. I’d like to manage you, but then I could get a grip on this for you.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tom pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “These were released to TMZ today. Wife of new reality TV show star who happens to be the stepson of Patricia Little seen in a compromising position with another married band mate.”

“Oh God!” She scrolled through the pictures on the website. “That’s not what happened at all. I didn’t do anything wrong. He was just…”

“No one wants to know just… They want to assume you ran off and married Patricia Little’s stepson, toured with her lead artist, and then cheated on him. That’s what they want to think.”

“But I didn’t. I didn’t know her name would be associated with the tour and I didn’t cheat on anyone.”

Tom ran his tongue over his teeth and set a hand on her shoulder as he took the phone from her. “There’s a car waiting for you outside. Get on a plane and get home. Be back to work on Wednesday with an answer for me on my representation for you. We need to get this nipped quick.”

“This is why Trent is pissed at me?”

“He thinks you set him up. His wife is pregnant you know.”

“I know. Oh, I didn’t do this.”

He nodded. “We’ll get it handled.”

Clara knew she should have waited for Trent. She owed him that kind of consideration. But she was flying back to Nashville and if she could get out and push the plane any faster she would.

She had, however, sent him a message apologizing for any damage done. She didn’t know about the pictures and they were innocent. Nothing had happened. Of course he knew that, but now his name was tarnished.

There was another car waiting for her at the airport to take her home.