Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“You do?”
I nodded. “Absolutely. And I’m a firm believer in judging people on their merit, not their family.”
“You’d be the first, but thank you. Truly.” She flashed a wide, pretty smile that was filled with relief. “Do you want me to call Gavin?”
“No. His quick departure tells me everything I need to know. I’ll see you soon, Zola.” I moved as quickly as my heels and the stone pavers would allow, trying like hell to keep my head held high, to maintain some level of dignity since I’d caught that flash of pity in Zola’s eyes before I turned away.
Pity, because I was sure I wasn’t the first woman to show up after he’d fled town to get away from her. Tears formed in my eyes, blurring my vision just as I reached my car.
Gavin was gone. He’d left like a thief in the night. No, thieves scurried off in shame, while Gavin had departed in style. A helicopter. He had left without a goodbye, which just stung because I hadn’t asked anything of him. Not for his love or his fidelity, and he’d still left without a word. That made me less than a friend and less than a fling. I wasn’t even a happy distraction from the uncertainty of his future.
I was a glorified booty call, and you didn’t do a long goodbye with a booty call. You just stopped calling.
Oh well. That was it, the universe had decided that my initial decision not to tell Gavin that I was pregnant was the right one. He wasn’t interested in any kind of ties, and a baby was the ultimate tie. I drove back to JRMC with a renewed sense of who I was and what I could do when I set my mind to it.
I had a wonderful mother who managed a full-time job and a household with two rambunctious kids. I could do it that, be the best mother I could possibly be to my child.
I had six months to learn everything I could, to get used to the idea of doing it on my own. To plan exactly how I would make it all happen.
Gavin
“Call me.”
My stepsister Zola had sent a vague text message early this morning and I couldn’t stop staring at it. Zola and I weren’t close because she preferred to stay out of the spotlight, but our parents had been married a long time and she was the kid sibling I’d wanted badly when I was a boy. She rarely called and she never asked for favors, no matter how many times I told her she could call at any time for any reason.
Why would she want me to call her now? My curiosity burned, but there was no time to reply because I was headed into a meeting with the studio executives who had waited two months longer than my contract dictated for my new album.
“Remember, be confident. The album is good, more than worth the wait while you took care of a medical problem. Don’t let them get away with shit, all right?” Alex had on his game face, the one that was responsible for making me richer than any one man needed to be.
“All right.” I let out a long, slow breath and stepped into the door Alex held open, a serious expression on his face. I smiled at the dozen navy-blue suits gathered around the table. “Ladies. Gentleman.”
“Gavin, it’s so good to see you.” Miller, the new head honcho, stood with a smile. “Glad to see you’re doing well again.”
“Just happy to be back in the studio.” I flashed a wide smile.
“We can tell,” he offered sincerely. “The new tracks are incredible and your producer has had nothing but glowing things to say about the entire album. It’s great, probably your best work to date.”
Holy. Shit. I stood, stunned, my eyes bouncing around the table at all the heads nodding in agreement. “Seriously?”
“Hell, yes. More than worth the wait.” Miller kept on talking while my mind raced. Whirled.
Best work to date. Those were words I hadn’t expected to hear, especially from a non-musician. “Wow. Thank you.”
“Thank you. We want to do a big push. Polish the album this week and set a release in about six weeks. That means lots of pre-release publicity.”
I nodded, knowing it meant crisscrossing the nation for television and radio interviews, as well as appeasing the online music crowd. It meant more distraction from thoughts of Suzie, who still hadn’t reached out. She’d probably washed her hands of me when she realized I had left without saying goodbye. “I’m here for it.”
Miller grinned. “I wish all our artists were as agreeable and best-selling as you.” He began droning on and on about marketing strategies and tours, while my thoughts turned back to Suzie.
Did she hate me?