Invisible Love Letter (19 page)

E
arly November
.

I sat in my office early on a Thursday morning working on a media kit for a new client. It had taken Brian almost four months to assign him to me, but since I was still very new to the company, and my first client had come with baggage, he’d wanted me to focus mainly on them before branching out.

Pointless Statement had been asked to join the remainder of Nina Colt’s USA tour starting in the New Year. They would be slated as the second act before she came on stage. It was great exposure for the guys, especially since all of her shows were sold out.

Things with Jeremy were also moving along. We’d finally set a date for our wedding. It would be a year from now, giving us plenty of time to plan without needing to rush.

A quiet tapping on glass pulled me away from my computer screen. “Hey,” Brian said as he walked into my office.

“You're here early,” I joked. I was able to drop Lyra off at Pre-K by seven in the morning, so I regularly came in early to beat the traffic and get a jump start on my day.

“Meetings all day.” He sat on the chair in front of me. “Actually you're my first stop.” He crossed his hands behind his back.

Pulling up my calendar, I looked for any meetings I had with him. “I don't have you on my calendar.” I looked between my laptop and Brian.

“No, it actually came up last night. I need you to fly to Seattle with Pointless Statement. They're doing an acoustic performance at the 88 Blues Club.”

Taken aback, I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at my calendar. Their performance was this upcoming weekend. “I really can't go on short notice and I would have to get the trip approved by HR.”

“The band is covering your traveling expenses.”

“But I'm not their manager. There’s no press involved. Why do I have to go?” It was a single performance in a small venue.

“They fired Paulie, and Weston is threatening to cancel unless you go.”

“Of course he is.” He was becoming a prima donna with his random requests.

“Talk to Marley in HR and she'll set you up with everything.” Brian pushed off the chairs and stood. There was no point arguing. This was part of my job.

Searching through a travel site, I picked a flight that left LA Saturday morning and flew back late Saturday night. I would only be gone for a total of twenty hours. Since this was on Pointless Statement’s dime, I didn’t care that it would cost a fortune. I wanted to be home when Lyra woke up Sunday morning. I had never been away from her overnight.

W
eston sat
on a stool as he sang to the crowd. The light was dimmed and the audience swayed with the music. To date, it was one of my favorite Pointless Statements performances. They had grown as artists and the fans were able to appreciate their true talent.

I admired each song they did from a booth near the stage. They didn’t really need me here with them; the venue had everything set up, including Paulie’s previous obnoxious request for a spread of food that consisted of brisket sliders, corn fritters, and macaroni and cheese cupcakes.

The guys had a few more songs to go, but I had a plane to catch. As Weston sang to the crowd, I snuck out the back. To my surprise, it was pouring. When I’d checked the weather earlier, there had been no sign of rain, but the torrential downpour made it impossible to see even a few feet in front of me. I waved a cabbie down and climbed into the back seat.

“Where to?”

“Airport, please.” I wiped the rainwater off my face.

“All flights are canceled.”

“It’s fine. Get me to the airport please.” I squeezed some of the water out of my hair. The cabbie shrugged and clicked a button on his meter.

A
fter begging
every flight attendant and looking for any flight to LA, I came to the conclusion I wouldn't be going home tonight. Well, the conclusion was made for me when every flight out of Seattle was canceled until the rain passed. Exhausted from the day, I paid another cabbie to take me back to the hotel Marley from HR had booked for me. The guys were probably done with their set and off to an after party I heard Pete talking about early.

As I climbed out of the cab, I knew I had a phone call to make.

“Hello?” Jeremy answered. I could hear the Lion King intro song in the background.

“Hey, babe. My flight was canceled.”

“I saw, but don’t worry. Lyra and I ordered dinner, we had a tea party, and now she wants to watch
The Lion King
.”

I moaned into the phone. “Thank you, for being you.”

“Anything for you.”

“Goodnight, I love you. Tell Lyra I’ll be home soon.”

“Love you, too.”

I strolled into the hotel, and the lobby bar stole my attention before I made it to the elevators. I didn’t have to be the responsible parent for a night, so I parked myself on a barstool and ordered a glass of Malbec. I needed the alcohol to take away the tension I had in my back and warm me up from the rain.

I gave Jeremy another ring and said goodnight to Lyra before I ordered my second drink. My clothes were still damp and my hair had curled up, but I was beginning to feel my buzz. My fingers circled around my second wine glass as the chair next to me pulled back.

Why did he always have to show up?

“Is this seat taken?” Weston asked. His voice was hoarse from singing.

“Why are you here? Why are you always popping up?” I motioned around the semi-empty bar. “There are plenty of empty seats. Why this one?”

“Is it taken?” He cocked his eyebrow.

“No, but why aren’t you with the guys? Why are you here?” I cried. Weston looked at my almost empty glass and then back at me. “I’m on my second one!” I spat.

He waved down the bartender and ordered himself a Jack and Coke. When the bartender walked away to tend to his drink, Weston shifted to face me. “I saw you sitting at the bar when I walked in. I thought you were going home tonight?”

“
Flight canceled. Stupid rain.” Weston was damp from the rain also, but he still smelled like heaven. Cinnamon and leather.

“You need to be home with your fiancé?” He took a sip of his drink.

“You can go to your party now.” I waved him off.

“Nah, no party for me. I’m having breakfast with my parents tomorrow morning.” My eyebrows raised. Last I recalled, his parents lived in California. “They moved up here after Trent passed away to be closer to the twins’ mother.”

“Oh my God, Weston. I had no idea.” I brought my hand to my heart.

“It's all right. His funeral was the weekend Harry passed away.” 

I reached out and grabbed his hand. His fingers locked with mine and an old flame that once burned brighter than the sun sparked. I pulled away from him. I couldn’t go down that path again. “How did it happen, if you don't mind me asking?” I brought my glass of wine to my lips.

Pain coursed through his expression. His thumb and forefinger brushed against the condensation of his glass. “It was an IED.”

“I'm so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“It was hard at first.” His eyes never moved from his glass as he spoke. “The news came when everything was falling apart. We knew Harry wasn't doing well, and our contract with the label was shit. Everyone was frustrated and it was bad news followed by worse news.” He shook his head as he remembered what he had gone through. “It kills me that I couldn't make it to Harry's funeral, but I went there and paid my respects after I was done with my family.”

“No one blames you for not being there.” I edged forward on my seat so I was closer to him. “How are your parents? How’s Mama?” I gave him a sad smile as I remembered his grandmother.

Weston chuckled and took another sip of his drink. “My parents are great, or as good as they can be. They sold their house in Temecula and moved up here to be with Nicole. It's not fair to keep the twins away from her, especially since she is their only living parent now. Nicole’s gotten better and has been keeping herself clean. Teegan and Tess are so big now and they have such little attitudes. I guess that’s the preteen age crap my mother is always telling Pops about.” Weston paused for a second and then his face grew wide with a smile. “And Mama…” He looked over at me. “She talks about you every time I speak to her.”

His comment made my heart warm.

The bartender refilled my glass of wine as Weston continued. “Why don't you come with us tomorrow? I know my family would love to see you again.”

“Weston, that doesn't seem like the best idea.”

“We're in a different state. Your fiancé doesn't have to know.” He gave me a sly smile.

“When we were together, would you have liked it if another man asked me to go have dinner or lunch with his family?” I pouted my lips and shook my head.

“You're right, sorry.” He held up his hands in defeat.

“Can I ask you something?” I wondered aloud after a moment had passed. He nodded. “You fired Paulie?”

Weston shrugged like it was no big deal. “He hit on you.”

“So? That was ages ago.”

“Doesn't matter. My only rule was you come first.” He pulled his eyes away from the condensation on his glass and locked his gaze with mine. It had changed from moments earlier. “I made it clear that you were my number one priority, and I knew he hated it. Said you were a distraction.”

“He’s an ass. I didn’t like him four years ago and I sure don’t like him now.”

Weston raised his drink to mine and I smiled before I took another sip. “You never told me what’s happened in the four years since I’ve seen you. How's your life now? How did you and Jeremy meet?”

Yeah, not happening.

I reached for my glass and took a long swig of wine. Those were questions I didn't want to answer. Hell, I couldn't answer. “Can we not talk about our past? For once you and I are having a conversation that doesn’t involve me storming out on you.”

Weston nodded. He then proceeded to ask me when I knew I wanted to get into public relations. He asked where I thought the future of the band was heading, and he made me promise never to leave SoCal PR as long as he was a client.

I asked him about the music he was writing. He said there was a special song, dear to his heart, that was almost finished. For hours we sat at the bar drinking and bullshitting as though we had been friends for years. As if all the lies and heartache had never happened. I was brought back to when I was in my early twenties and none of the heartache between us had ever happened. With Weston, I felt alive and young. It was a feeling that both elated and petrified me.

I was on my fourth or fifth glass of wine when I realized I had to call it a night. My eyes were heavy and my body was begging for sleep. I yawned and stretched my hands above my head. Weston closed out our tab and led me out of the lobby bar and toward the elevators. I stepped inside the steel car.

“Floor?” Weston asked.

“Fifteen,” I managed to say without slurring.

I held on to the railing and rested my head on the wall. Weston stood across from me, his stance matching mine. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I think I'm a little drunk.” In my head, the words were clear but I knew as they left my mouth they were a garbled mess. It had been years since I drank this much. 

“You look happy.”

“I have no responsibilities right now. I haven’t felt this way since you and I were together.” I opened my arms and overextended against the wall. The length of our history caused the tension in the air to shift, and Weston’s eyes darkened with want. No words were spoken as we walked out of the elevator and Weston led me to my room.

Drunken actions.

Sober thoughts.

The events that followed us as we walked down the hallway were out of pure love. 

The hotel had given me a corner suite since I’d booked last minute. I tried to walk with grace down the long carpeted hall, but Weston was at my side the second I stumbled. Giggling, I coiled my hands around his waist and held on. He didn't tighten from the sudden embrace. Instead, he held on to me as though his hand had belonged there all along. We fit together like a perfect puzzle. My head rested on his shoulder as he directed me towards my room. As we walked, Weston hummed a melody; it reminded me of all the times he would sing to me.

“I miss your singing,” I confessed.

“I miss you.” He grasped my hand in his and twirled me away from his body. I was too drunk to follow his lead, so I tripped and laughed. Weston brought me back to him, our bodies flush. “I miss you every single second.”

His words put a swift stop to my laughter and I swallowed the thick air that lingered between us. Weston noticed my abrupt change and spun me once again. The entire time he continued to hum a tune I’d never heard before. Dancing in an empty hallway, Weston managed to sweep me off my feet again, both figuratively and literally.

“I remember you being a much better dancer,” he joked.

I threw my head back and laughed. “I haven’t danced in years. You were the best dance partner.” With one final turn, Weston pulled me towards him and dipped my body. My head tossed back as I kicked one leg up.

Our eyes locked.

Weston slowly lifted me and pushed me against my room door. His calloused fingers tickled my cheek when they brushed my face. Tenderly, he cleared a curl of my hair and pulled it behind my ear. I leaned into his hand and Weston pressed his forehead to mine. With one quick movement, our lips would touch. At that moment, my life outside the Weston bubble didn’t exist.

My eyes closed as I anticipated his lips on mine. I knew what they tasted like, how they felt, and a part of me desperately wanted them. Weston’s breath was warm on my lips, and my breath grew heavy with want. He shifted on his feet to kiss me. It was my last chance to stop this. My heart pounded harder and faster, awaiting his touch. Weston’s lips grazed mine and in that millisecond reality hit me. I’d given Jeremy my word.

“Don’t,” I whispered. This wasn’t right. I was engaged to another man. I needed to put my feelings aside and honor the promise I made to Jeremy. “Please don’t kiss me because I don’t know if I can stop you and we both know this is wrong and it’ll be something we’ll regret in the morning.” I kept my eyes closed as I rambled.