Same time next week, p.25
Same Time Next Week, page 25
“I have an attorney,” Shelby said, giggling. “You don’t need to know a thing or two. But I would appreciate your support.”
“You got it, honey. You always had it. I was just waiting to be let into the inner circle.”
“I’m sorry about the email. I didn’t know what else to say. I thought you were pissed at me. And you didn’t answer, so I thought you agreed it was the best thing to do.”
“I thought you wanted me to go away. I thought I was doing what you wanted me to do. But something happened to change my mind.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Uhm…. actually. When I got home tonight, my ex was here. In the house.”
A pang of jealousy stabbed at Shelby’s heart. She sat bolt upright in the darkness, a death grip on the phone. “Kim? What’s she doing in Orlando? What’s she doing in your house? I don’t even have a key!”
“I’m in LA, honey,” Jackson said, calming. Soothing. “We’re mixing the album out here. I got to the house and she was here. She still had a key I guess.”
“So what happened?” Jackson hesitated, causing her heartbeat to speed up, again, only not out of excitement. “Jackson?”
“Shelby…nothing. Nothing happened with her. But she…she kept saying that I never came after her. I never showed her that I didn’t want the breakup; I accepted it. And then she accepted it because I accepted it. I was waiting for her to think it was a mistake and come find me. She was waiting for me to fight for us. And I realized that I was doing the same thing with you. Letting things happen.”
“You didn’t sleep with her?”
He sighed, but she could hear his smile through his words. “No. I didn’t. I told her about you. I told her that I love you.” He paused, waiting for a response. Shelby was too shocked to form a cogent one. “I told her that I think you love me too but that something was going on and I didn’t know what to do. She said to call you and if you wanted me back, you’d pick up. So I called. And you picked up.”
Shelby lay down again, willing her heart to stop beating so fast, so loudly in her ear. She’d almost lost her mind at the thought of him being with his ex-girlfriend. Kim was the Holy Grail, the stick by which everyone else was going to be measured. Shelby didn’t even know where she ranked against Kim.
“I’m not saying you’re right, or anything. But if I was going to say I loved you, it wouldn’t be on the phone.”
Jackson laughed at her coy admission, her saying it without saying it. “Well, I’m out here for a few days and then headed back home. I have a break before the album drops. Maybe we could work on saying it in person. And maybe you could say some other things in person. Maybe you could say everything in person.”
“Uhm…” Shelby sighed, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “Actually, you're not the only one not at home. I’m in Miami. Dealing with this Melina thing. I’m waiting to see if we have a meeting set up to try and resolve it.”
“Oh.” Jackson sounded surprised, a little shocked. Maybe he’d already been planning their reunion in his head. “Then I’ll come to you. It doesn’t matter where we say the words.”
Shelby wanted to argue, but didn’t. She wanted to tell him not to bother, to go to Orlando and live his life and stay out of the mess, but didn’t. She couldn’t. He was offering, and he wanted to be there for her. And she wanted him to be there for her, more than life itself. She took it.
“Then let me know when you’re heading back. I’ll pick you up.”
“Deal.” She heard a long, loud sigh on the other end. “I’m hard. I’ve missed you.”
Shelby laughed. What a transition. “I do wish I could help you with that, right now.”
“I haven’t slept in days.”
“Me either. It’s been kind of stressful, plus all this stuff with us… sleep seems like a luxury.”
“Well, sweetie, just relax. Don’t stress yourself out too much over it. It’ll work out.”
“Everyone keeps saying that. No one knows for sure. I’ll believe it when I see it I’m so worried about this. And I know you said you don’t care, but I care if your name gets brought up.”
“You let me worry about that,” he said mirroring Roberto’s words at dinner. “I know what to do.” He yawned loudly in her ear. “Now, it’s late here, so it’s really late over that way. I’ve gotta put up with Rod all day, so I need to get some rest. And you need rest, because you don’t ever sleep.”
Shelby smiled into the phone and snuggled further down in the bed. “Yes sir. I’m in the bed. I’ll try to sleep.”
“Wish I was with you. Will be soon. Night, Shelby.”
The line disconnected and there was dead air in her ear, but Shelby held the phone, not wanting to let go quite yet. If she didn’t move and didn’t disconnect, then she could stay in this place where she was happy and relieved and overjoyed. The moment she moved or hung up on her end, she would lose the warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. It would be replaced by immeasurable fear and nervous anticipation.
The years before Lucas were a dark corner, one that was about to be lit up with a fluorescent bulb, all shadows chased away. Shelby was nowhere near out of the woods with him. Melina had merely scratched the dirt on the surface of the woman she used to be. Shelby hoped Jackson was in for the long haul. There was a lot yet to uncover.
Chapter 28
Jackson
For the first time in days, he felt hopeful.
Maybe he hadn’t completely lost her. Maybe he hadn’t screwed things up by not following his first instinct and going after her. Maybe she was scared, cowering in a corner and needed someone to find her and grab her, wrap her up in comfort and safety and never let her go. The question was… was Jackson ready to be that man for her? Or was Shelby right to step away, because he didn’t want or need the tornado swirling around her?
He passed out in bed soon after his shower—he had to wash Kim off, once and for all. He slept harder than he’d slept in ages and awoke early and well-rested. He dressed, packed, and called a cab. If everything went as planned, he would be on a plane back to Florida that night.
Rod was in good spirits, which meant he was sober. He wasn’t at all excited about being awake and at the studio early, but when Jackson said he wanted to finish and get back to Orlando, Rod was suddenly motivated. The sooner he got back to familiar ground and his gaggle of women, the happier he’d be.
Jackson worked ahead of the engineer until he showed up and then the three of them got down to business, working on the remaining songs to be mixed. Music recorded live by the band was layered with vocals from Rod and Jackson on top, then a balance of the two. Then adjusting and playing and adjusting and playing−over and over and over again until it was perfect.
At lunch break, Jackson bit down a sandwich held in one hand while taking notes with the other. “I think we can knock out two more songs this afternoon and we’ll be pretty much be done. I want to give everything one last listen but… we’re cool.” He nodded, satisfied, and tossed the pen down. His eyes lifted to find Rod eyeing him, a suspicious glint to his stare.
“You get some last night?”
Jackson stopped mid-chew and stared at Rod, hoping his facial expression said shut the fuck up. He swallowed and said, “Did I what?”
“Get some, you old dog! Not even back in LA a full day and you’re all cheerful.”
Jackson almost smiled at the thought that a ten minute conversation had changed his entire demeanor. He shook his head, saying, “Ready to go home. Uhm, by the way? I need to go to Miami instead of Orlando.”
Rod’s dark eyes were alive, popping wide open at Jackson’s nonchalant announcement. “Miami? What?”
Jackson gulped the last bite of his sandwich, avoiding looking at Rod straight on. He couldn’t help the grin as he wiped his hands on the rough paper towels he’d swiped from the bathroom. “Okay. I didn’t get any, no. But I talked to Shelby last night. It went well. She's in Miami. She uh… she needs me.”
“Well, alright, brother!” Rod held a hand up and, after a few seconds of hesitation, Jackson slapped it in a high five. “Go get your woman. I like the sound of that. Is she okay?”
Jackson shook his head. “She sounds like she’s in trouble.”
“So you think the best thing to do is rush right down there and dig her out of it?”
Jackson stood, crumpling the sandwich wrapper and tossing it into the garbage. “I think the best thing to do is to rush right down there, tell her I love her and that I’m there for her. And then not go back on that.”
He left Rod alone in the room and went back to the studio. Sometimes Rod was such a dumbass.
Shortly after sunset, Jackson exhaled a lungful of air and relaxed against his seat. The run-through was complete. The sound engineer was burning a copy of the completed album for Jackson and filling out the Request for Courier form. A messenger would arrive in a few minutes to pick up a disc and deliver it to a non-descript building in downtown LA. Once it arrived, Jackson’s first project as Music Director for the Rod Phillips Band would, essentially, be complete. It was a great feeling to have accomplished something and if Jackson didn’t have other things on his mind, he would have taken a bit more time to bask in the glory of his achievement.
But there was still a ride to Burbank and a five hour plane ride to get through before he would see Shelby’s face. Even in the lap of luxury, it sounded like a chore. Jackson was ready to move.
In the car, he made phone calls. He caught up with his family and friends and let them know how things were going and that he wouldn’t be heading straight home. There were questions, none of which he could answer—a fact that used to drive him up a wall, but he now understood. Hopefully soon, he would no longer be in the dark.
He and Rod climbed aboard the jet, falling into their usual seats, settling in and getting comfortable for the ride. Before takeoff, Jackson pulled out his phone, scrolled to a number and listened to the phone dialing out.
“Hi,” said a familiar female voice on the line. It was a voice he loved, a voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. God, he missed her.
“Hey. I wanted you to know I’m on the plane. It’ll be awhile before I land. Should I catch a hotel room, or—"
“No!” They both laughed at her excited answer. “No, I want to come get you. You know I’ll be awake. I won’t be able to relax until I see you.”
Jackson smiled into the phone. That was the answer he wanted to hear. “I’ll see you in a few hours. It’s a private jet, so you’ll have to wait for me to call and tell you we’ve landed.”
Shelby laughed—he’d missed that sound, that chuckle with a sexy, throaty, gritty undertone that dug under his skin. He couldn’t wait to feel that up against his neck. “Wow, a private jet, huh? I’m dating someone very important, apparently.”
“Apparently. Or more like his employer thinks he’s a big shot who’s too spoiled to fly commercial.” Jackson ducked in time to miss a size 11 shoe fly past his head. “I better go. Rod’s throwing shoes and it’s about to be germ warfare up in here. Can’t wait to see you, honey.”
“Counting the hours,” she said softly. “And get some sleep. We have a lot of talking to do.”
“Looking forward to it. See you in a bit.” He ended the call, wanting desperately to tell her, again, that he loved her. There’d be time enough for that soon.
The mask and suit of armor he wore gave him the appearance of bravery and boldness, but he was taking the biggest risk of his life. Bigger than moving back to Orlando. Bigger than taking on Rod and the band and everything came with it. Bigger than trying to keep his name in lights and stay relevant, doing something he'd never done before. Bigger than planning and embarking on a world tour, no longer the main event and the performer, but in the background and the shadows. If he couldn't know that Shelby was there for him and not only loved him but was in love with him, the rest of his life would seem like a waste. It had to work out.
What was he even going to say, when he saw her? Hey, I know people think you murdered your old man, but I'm here for you. Please don't kill me was probably not the best approach, even if he was kidding. She would be scared and stressed and overwhelmed. He could almost feel her emotions in his heart. He heard the clipped tone of voice in his head. He used that feeling and that sound to propel him forward, to push him toward Miami.
Hang on, Shelby. I’m coming.
Shelby
She ended the call but held the phone in her hands, staring at the LED screen, trying to force the hours forward. The time at the top of the phone flipped, minute by very slow minute. At this rate, it would take forever for the hours to tick by.
Shelby was nervous. More nervous than she’d been when she met him that early morning or on their first date, though she wore a brave face. She’d been scared out of her mind that night, completely out of her comfort zone. Aggressive, sexual, animal—that had never been her. It was a persona that she put on, hoping to change herself and her life.
Her ruse worked and yet it didn’t. It netted her a great guy who thought she really was that person. Shelby dreaded having to tell him that she was a coward who took the first opportunity to run from her problems, only to have her problems hunt her down and surface in another city. Orlando may as well have been a desert island, but the world had suddenly become a much, much smaller place.
She hadn’t slept since Jackson called that morning. She'd tried, but couldn’t. There was too much going on inside her head and her heart. Too much she was holding at bay. Too much she was sick and tired of hiding. She had to prepare herself, mind and body and spirit to see Jackson again. To show him the real Shelby. To tell him everything and hope he meant it when he said he wasn’t going anywhere.
To distract herself, she bumbled around the house, spent time with her parents until they went to bed, then sat out on the patio clutching a drink in one hand and her phone in the other.
The hours dwindled, inching by until it was time to go to the airport. The private airstrip was miles beyond the airport, so Jackson would have to first get to the airport and walk through it to the other side. From her car, she could see flights from major airlines approaching, the jet engines roaring from far above and then, from the left, a small aircraft—in comparison to the others—descended from the skies, coming lower and lower until it sank out of view. That had to be his plane.
Shelby waited on pins and needles for the call to come, the call that said he was on the ground and headed her way. She was expecting it, but the car was so quiet that it still made her jump when it rang in her hands.
“He-hello?”
“Hey. I’m here. Where ya at?”
His voice, his voice, the sound of his voice! She felt like a sap, grinning into the phone at the mere sound of his silky tone with the light west coast accent. Knowing he was in close proximity to her made her almost leap out of the car and go running for him. She didn’t even know where she’d parked. She swung into the closest spot with a view of the airstrip.
“Uhm, come out at baggage claim and I’ll drive around.”
“You got it. I’ll be there.” She didn’t even say goodbye. She slammed the phone closed, started the car, jammed it into reverse and then into drive. The car wound its way around the parking deck, narrowly missing a pillar and two other cars.
In record time, she was screeching to a stop in front of baggage claim, spotting a nondescript Jackson in a hat, a light leather jacket and jeans with a duffel bag over his shoulder. She honked, watching his head whip around in her direction and then a smile cross his face. She put the car in park and practically exploded out of it, rushing around to the sidewalk and throwing herself into his arms.
For a minute, she was sure she was dreaming. And it was a horrible, ugly, mean thing for her mind to do to her, to produce a dream in which Jackson had come to find her and tell her that he didn't care about the black cloud hovering over her.
But… she wasn't dreaming. He was really there and really holding her. Her nose was really full of his scent and her arms were really full of him, and his lips were really dusting her forehead. Her heart would probably burst if it hadn't already exploded earlier in a fit of sadness over probably never seeing him again-and here he was.
Shelby had almost knocked him over with the force of her body against his, but he stood strong, planting his feet, his arms wrapped tightly around her, the world at a standstill. It took everything in her to hold back the tears that threatened. She didn’t want to cry. She wanted to be overjoyed at seeing him again and relieved that he still wanted to be a part of her life. For now, at least.
When she could bring herself to let go, Shelby pulled back, enough to look at him. To see him. Her face was flushed, her eyes were shiny, but her smile was wide. "You look tired," she said.
"Long week. Long flight. I've been worried about you."
Shelby gulped, feeling the look of guilt and shame crossing her face. "I'm sorry. I was trying not to involve you in all of this. Trying to keep this from you made it worse. I was irresponsible to get involved with you, in the first place, while this was so fresh. I–"
"No, no." He silenced her with a finger to her lips. "No regrets. However we came to be, it's already happened. We can't undo it, so let's not have regrets. Let's turn around and look at where we're going."
Shelby gulped, and dared a small smile. "We?"
"We," he repeated, smiling, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "I'm not arguing that point." Jackson grinned down at her, then with a fingertip, stroked her cheek until he reached that dimple he claimed to love so much. “See, I had to come back. I haven’t named this dimple, yet.”
She laughed, basking in the feeling of being near him, the sight of him the smell of him, his smile, the tenor of his voice, the sensation of the tip of his finger on her face that sent shivers down her body. Behind them, cars honked and parking police whistles tweeted, knocking her out of blissful reverie.
