Fast Forward (21 page)

I shook my head. “I hope I’ve
done
enough this time.”

I went back into the house and the door slammed shut behind me.

CHAPTER 21

Cassie

“Go to YouTube and enter
Sweet Second duet
.”

I shouldn’t have taken Shawn’s call. I was going to be late and Josh would be waiting for me. He’d spent the last ten days in Estevez’s constituency in Arizona. We hadn’t had time together since Christmas and Steep Hill. And really then, all our energy had been spent on damage control after Josh beat his father to a bloody pulp.

“Can I call you back later tonight?” Shawn was in L.A. By the time I was back from Josh’s cocktail party it’d still be early evening in California.

“Open your laptop and go to YouTube.
Now.
You won’t regret it.”

I sighed and checked myself in the full-length mirror. I was all dressed-up, so I could afford one minute. I sat in front of my ancient laptop that dated back to high school.

“Are you on it?” Shawn was getting impatient at the other side of the line.

“Hang on. My computer is crazy slow.” I forced my foot to stop tapping against the table leg. I hated surprises. “Are you still able to fit through doorways? With this first hit of yours, your head must match the size of your ego. It must be tough to move around.”

Over Christmas,
Sweet Second
had climbed to the top of Billboard’s Digital Songs chart and, overnight, Shawn Dupret had moved from being a cool Indie lead singer to a nationwide rising star. And I was already dreaming of my royalty check.

“Ha-ha!” I heard him puff on his cigarette. “If you’re asking how I manage to lead a normal life with dozens of screaming girls following me everywhere, the answer is… I’m not leading a normal life anymore. But ‘normal’ is so over-rated, babe.”

“Glad you’re keeping your head on your shoulders.” I finally hit on the right page and clicked on the ‘play’ button straight away.

… And there I was. All over the freakin’ screen!

It was that night in Phoenix back in September and my one and only duet with Shawn. The sound was pretty bad, but it was weird to hear myself singing. I hadn’t done any demo recording, so I wasn’t yet used to it.

I listened for one minute, then paused the video. “Okay, our groundbreaking performance has been filmed. Not really a sex tape or anything sleazy like that, is it?”

“Check the number of hits.”

I did. My stomach collapsed while my heart beat its way up into my throat. It had almost reached the half-a-million mark.

“Fuck!”

“Yes, babe.”

I started flicking through the dozens and dozens of comments underneath the video but I struggled to read anything. The words jumped around in front of me making little sense.

“People want to know who I am.” That much I got.

“Correct. So do my producers. I had to put Will in a straight-jacket so I could be the one to call you. He’s hanging out in the next room.”

“Why?”

Shawn gave me a very uncool chuckle. “Because he wants to introduce you to my producers and claim some of the glory.”

“I wrote the song with you. I’m sure your producers already know that.” Otherwise my newly-appointed lawyer would make sure to remind them.

“Damn, Cass, you’re slow on the uptake. This time it isn’t about you-the Songwriter. It’s about you-the Singer-and-totally-gorgeous-duet-partner.”

I let his words settle down in my brain. “You mean—“

“—yeah, I mean, fly your ass down to L.A. right now and put your warmest smile on, because you’re gonna meet a helluva lot of people.
Important
people.”

The silence that followed was totally anti-climactic. It was the breakthrough I’d never let myself dream of, but I kept my mouth shut and simply leaned against the back of my chair.

“Cassandra O’Malley,
hellooo
? Did you just die and go to Heaven to sit between Cobain and Morrison?”

“I can’t come. Right now, writing songs is all I can do. We’ve had a big setback with the adoption and—”

“—you can’t say ‘no,’ Cass. You’re
not
going to say ‘no.’” Shawn’s voice was dead-cold. I’d never heard him sound like this before. Not with me anyway.

The DNA test had come back and Josh was
in the clear
. Trisha and the D.C. caseworker had checked our story with Lenor. The judge seemed to be happy. So, it was all good but I wasn’t going to stretch myself too thin right before Lucas came to live with us. “I can say ‘no.’ I have to.”

“Why? It’s just a duet. You hop on down to L.A. in first class, all expenses paid, and come and spend a couple of days with me to record the song. You meet a lot of great people and lunch with Will. He’s your agent now. Then, we wait and see what the studio executives think of the duet.” Another puff on his cigarette. “That’s it. I’m not asking you to drown your newborn.”

It sounded so simple. No big deal.

I checked the time in the bottom right corner of my screen. Shawn was right: I had to move my ass, but not to L.A.

“I was on my way out when you called and I
really
can’t be late. I’ll call you tonight, I pro—“

“—I want your answer tonight, Cass. Please don’t screw up like you did back in Phoenix.”

The guy had no fucking idea. “Listen, Shawn, I know how much I owe you. But we’re not in the same place in our lives right now. I’m married and I can’t make decisions like that without talking to Josh first.”

Maybe I should have checked with my husband first before pointing Gran’s rifle straight at his father? Maybe Jack MacBride wouldn’t have spent a week in hospital? And maybe Miranda wouldn’t have had to bribe him into keeping his mouth shut with a fat cash payment. Maybe, maybe…

“Talk to you later!” I hung up.

The reception I had to attend with Josh was right here in Georgetown, but I decided to call a cab.so I could make up the time I’d lost on YouTube.

When I reached my destination, I paid and got out of the cab. I stood with my feet glued to the sidewalk, then looked up at the exterior of the Hotel Langford. It was like traveling back in time and finding myself in front of the Oxford Union. Shivers ran through me. I didn’t want to relive that night, when I’d told Josh about Lucas, when Josh had belonged to another woman.

I shook myself. Josh belonged to me now and I belonged to him. What happened in Steep Hill was only a blip in our journey together. I stepped confidently into the plush hallway. In front of me spread an expanse of shiny marble tiles and antique rugs. Presidents had slept in this hotel and I understood why. This place was the real deal.

Out of the corner of my eye, I checked my reflection in the glass panel on the left of the hallway. I wasn’t going to fool anyone even with this classic black dress and matching stilettos. I’d been to the hairdresser in the afternoon to have my curls professionally tamed into a conservative bun, but the color still looked too brash, fake, even if, I swear, I wasn’t a bottle blond.

No matter if I spent my hard-earned cash, I still looked like a Midwestern gal trying too hard.

“Can I help you, madam?” I’d never been at the receiving end of a ‘madam’ before. Either I’d aged prematurely or my makeover was paying off. I smiled at the receptionist and asked for directions. I wasn’t
directed
, I was escorted to an elevator and then down a grand corridor to a double paneled door guarded by two dark-suited guys with little plugs in their ears. I’d noticed a few more Men in Black on my way up.

“Your invitation please Ma’am?” one of them asked.

Was the Secret Service entertaining here tonight or what? Well, it
was
Washington D.C. after all. Josh had asked me to bring proof of ID and I understood why now

The room I stepped into was far bigger than I’d expected. It was a ballroom topped by a dome with golden decorations all over the ceiling. Between that and the glasses of champagne circling around me, I was already feeling a little tipsy. I grabbed the first cup of bubbly I could get my hands on. That way I had something in my hand when I started my quest for Josh.

The average age of the crowd was north of forty. Or fifty. I must have looked straight out of kindergarten next to all these silver foxes. I zigzagged between the dozens of guests, loneliness starting to creep inside me. But I caught sight of that bitch Megan, and then my eyes settled on Josh. Jealousy bubbled from within. What were they doing together? I looked for something to throw at the girl—something yucky and sticky—but found nothing.

I calmed down because they weren’t actually talking to each other but listening to an older man whose face was familiar. I wasn’t into politics but I watched TV and I was pretty certain I’d seen him before. Josh’s six foot two frame hovered over the man who was speaking, but his composure was one of respect. There was no way I was going to butt in, so I hid in a corner and tried to make my champagne last.

It wasn’t right though. I’d come here to learn about Josh’s world and going all anti-social now wasn’t going to make it. I forced myself to crack a smile at some neighboring guests. They smiled back so I stepped into their little group and tried to follow what they were talking about. The next education bill or something. I prayed nobody was going to ask my opinion. Because I had none.

From where I stood, I couldn’t miss how Megan stole some hungry sideway glances at my man. But he wasn’t looking back at her.
Ha-ha!
Meanwhile, the politician was taking his sweet time and I was getting bored.

“Mrs. MacBride?” and then another “Mrs. MacBride?” Finally the voice reached me and I turned around. It took me a couple of seconds to place the guy’s face.

“Hi! You’re Peter…?”

“Peter Hewitt.”

“Nice to see you again.” Not really, but it was Washington and I was here for Josh. Hewitt had Estevez’s ear.

Peter took two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and handed one to me, while taking my empty glass away. Two brews was my weekly quota for booze, so this was dangerous territory for me.

He nodded at the older man opposite Josh. “Senator Leland Van Ark,” he said. I answered with an arched eyebrow, so he explained, “He’s the Senate Majority Leader.”

I kept myself from whistling. Not really the place.

“And the pretty girl next to your husband is—”

“Megan Alistair. We’ve already been introduced. She’s an old friend from Georgetown.”

Hewitt took a sip of his bubbly and the next words hissed through his lips. “I see.”

I shifted my body so that I could face him straight on. “And what do
you
see exactly, Peter?”

“Joshua MacBride is a smart man. He operates openly enough so that the women in his life don’t suspect anything underhanded is going on.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Tsk-tsk, Mrs. MacBride, you’re betraying your roots. The Langford is hardly a honkytonk.”

“And what are my roots? Do tell me, Mr. Hewitt.” I wasn’t going to point a rifle at this guy, but if my words were bullets, he’d look like a slice of Swiss cheese by now.

“The same as Joshua’s, and that’s why the outcome of your marriage is a foregone conclusion.”

I couldn’t help asking. “Why?”

“Because ambition is the engine behind your husband’s success, not love, although...” he tilted his head sideways as if conceding a point, “… he’s very good at this young family man charade. Voters love that and he knows it.”

I wanted to break this asshole’s nose. “Get out of my sight.”

He raised his glass and turned. I watched him walk away and looked for where his salute had been directed.

“I told you to avoid Hewitt,” Josh cut in. His jaw was locked.

“Good evening to you too! Long time no see.”

“He’s a snake.”

“And Megan Alistair is a cow, but here you are being all chummy with her.” I knocked down half of my glass for some Dutch courage to face Josh’s polar gaze.

“I wasn’t
chummy
with her. She introduced me to Senator—”

“—Van thingy, I know, Leader of the free world and beyond. Your friend Hewitt gave me a briefing.” Another gulp of champagne. “How does your ex know him anyway? They’re not exactly the same level on the food chain.”

“He’s her godfather.”

The champagne went down the wrong way and I coughed. Thank God I managed not to spit out anything, but I wasn’t getting any help from my beloved. He just kept looking at me. When I’d recovered, he added: “She’s the one who invited me tonight. I didn’t want to accept but she suggested you come along too.”

Of course, the girl was smart enough not to piss off the wife while making her way into the husband’s good books.