Meadowlarks 3 : Endless (13 page)

What in the sweet shit am I witnessing right now?

“Sara?” I ask, unsure of which personality I’m speaking to.

“Oh, yes…Weston, of course.” Sara smiles at me, grinning her white teeth and fluttering her lashes. “I’ll definitely take your offer into consideration, and I’ll get back to you ASAP. It was so good seeing you again. Riley…we should have lunch soon, okay?”

Riley smiles and nods. “Call me.”

I’ve completely lost my appetite. What little one I had to begin with, anyway. The bouncy waitress sets our plates down and asks if we need anything else.

I almost ask for a bottle of Jack and no glass…but I don’t.

“We’re good, thanks.” I pick up the enormous heart-stopping burger and dive in. Fuck, it’s good. When is bacon and cheese
not
good?

“So what was that all about, anyway?” Riley asks, a mouthful of salad bulging in her cheek. “She seems…off.”

“
Off
doesn’t even begin to describe her. She’s fucked.”

“No thanks to you, I’m sure.”

“Thanks.”

Riley smiles. “Sorry…that was mean.”

“A little, yeah.” I curl my lip. But she’s right.

“How’s the burger?”

I take another big bite of meat and cheesy heaven. “Probably clogging my arteries as we speak, but it’s so fucking good. How’s the rabbit food?”

Riley just smirks and sticks out her tongue, curling her nose.

After lunch, I actually have to let Riley drive because I’m almost catatonic from the meal. I ate too much, and now I’m regretting it. I’ll have to run around all of Sheridan—twice—just to work this off.

“I like this one.” Riley points to a sample slab of hardwood. “It’s bamboo.”

“I like it too. Let’s get it.” I order enough square footage of the wood and text Pete to find out when he wants it delivered. “Can you do Thursday?” I ask the associate, she nods, and I text Pete back to let him know it’ll be there on Thursday.

Riley’s phone rings again. Damn that husband of hers.

***

Leah

“Hello?” Riley answers quietly.

“Hey! Did you get my voicemail?”

“No! You left me one? Oh, this damn phone. It doesn’t show that I’ve got one. Sorry, girl…how are you?”

I twirl my hair between my fingers, and look out glass pane dividing me from the sound set on the other side. “I’m at the studio, actually. We’re recording some new songs.”

“That’s great!” She whispers. “You’ve been writing already?”

“Why are you whispering? And yes, I think we’ve got some good stuff coming together.”

The phone muffles for a moment, and I hear Riley talk quietly to someone. “Sorry, hey…that’s awesome. I can’t wait to hear it!”

“Anyway, I was calling to see how you were. And I wanted to let you know I’m doing much better…”

“I’m so happy to hear that—hey!”

The phone muffles again, and I can’t make out what Riley’s saying, because her mouth isn’t up to the phone.

“Leah?”

My heart stops. I think I’m clinically dead.

“Leah...” Weston sighs, his breath blowing into the receiver. “Baby, please say something…”

“We—I can’t,” I whisper. My voice barely audible. I knew I shouldn’t have called her in the middle of the day. What a stupid risk.

“Listen to me…I don’t know what happened, but I need to. I need
you
.”

Tears start pouring out of my eyes, down my cheeks, and under my chin. I can’t control them, and I don’t want to. I still don’t speak. I want to tell him how badly I need him too, how badly I just want to scream from the top of my lungs to whoever took me, that I don’t give a shit about what they said. I just want Weston Casey.

“I’m coming back to New York on Sunday, baby. We’re going to fix this. Just say something so I know you’re okay and you’ve heard me.”

I clear my throat. I hope that’s good enough. I can’t manage to get any words to come past the lump in my throat.

Weston sighs again.

The silence could shatter a window. But, I don’t care. Even if we’re not speaking, just knowing he’s on the other end of this call, warms me just a little.

“Sunday,” I whisper so quietly I’m unsure if I even said it.

“Oh,
fuck
…” he growls.

I end the call. Drop to my knees, and cry.

“Ohhh shit! Leah!” Neil runs in to the dark room and picks me up off the floor. “What happened? Are you okay?”

I sniffle and wipe my face. “Yes, I’m okay. Sorry…let’s continue.”

“Are you sure? We can go if you want, and do this another time.”

“No, I promise, I’m okay. I want to finish this.”

I sit back up on my stool, put my headphones back on and clear my throat again. Neil joins the rest of the concerned faces on the other side of the glass and I nod that I’m ready.

To soothe my vocal chords (and my heart), Neil, Jett and Aaron take me back to the hotel after the recording studio and Neil makes me tea. I snuggle and curl into the couch, Jett covers me with a fleece blanket.

“Are you gonna be okay, Leah? I’ve never seen you like this.” Jett asks, his face wrinkled with concern. “I can call Lucas…”

“No, guys…Really! I’m okay! I want to do the show tonight. Can I nap for a little first though?”

“Of course, girl…drink this and have a nap. We are going across the hall to practice, if you need anything.” Neil sets the steaming mug down on the coffee table and pats my shoulder gently.

“Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”

“We know,” Aaron jokes.

I take one sip of the tea and drift off into sleep.

“That’s right, bitch. Dead. Over…Like, no fucking more. Capiche?”

My heart hammers in my chest, and the smell of the burlap flows so mildewed into my nostrils, making my stomach turn. Her voice rasps through the bag and into my ears, poisoning me with her toxic tone. This time, I don’t nod back, and it makes her even angrier. She yanks the bag from my head and glares at me. Light shines from behind her, blinding my so I can’t make out her face. The beam shining illuminates her hair so wildly that it’s pure gold.

I sit up, panting, aching, internally screaming…I didn’t know she’s a blonde. Was she a blonde? I didn’t even see her, so no, she can’t be. My mind is messing with me. My hair is plastered to the side of my face from my sweat, and my palms are damp.

The mug is still steaming. I wasn’t out long. Long enough for that nightmare, though. I fight the tears this time. No more tears, Leah. You can get through this…you can’t let that nutjob run you…You just can’t. Here and now, on this sofa, in this hotel, I’m making a vow. No bitch is going to dictate who I can and cannot see. Who I am, and what I do with my life. Leah Marshall is not going to roll over so easily.

“Boys!” I open the door of Neil’s room. They’re sitting in a circle, Jett and Aaron strumming on their guitars and Neil pats his thighs with his drumsticks. They all stop and smile at me.

I beam back. “I hope you’re ready to rock that place tonight.”

“Oh, shit! Our girls’ back!” Jett rumbles his deep voice and stands to wrap his free arm around me.

I place my hands on my hips, in a sassy fashion and wink. “Damn straight.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Leah

The club is packed. Probably illegally over capacity too. The make-shift dressing room I’m getting ready in, is too small but I make do. I’m wearing the purple plaid babydoll, my new big girl bra, and the shortest jean shorts I could find. Sitting down to slide on my cowboy boots, I lean back on the small loveseat and smile.

“Leah?” Lucas gently knocks on the door and peeks his head in. “Almost ready?”

“Yep.” I stand, and look in the mirror once more. Flipping and scrunching my curled hair once more, I’m good to go. I
hope
…

“They’re filming tonight, Leah. For footage for the GMNY redo. If you’re not up for it, I’ll cut the cameras.”

“No, Lucas…I’m excited. Let’s go!”

I follow Lucas out of the room and to the area behind the stage. I can feel the vibrancy from the crowd pulsating, it sends goose bumps on my skin, and the hair on my nape prickles. This is what I live for…this. The energy, the loud bass-thumping, ear shattering, adrenaline-charged feeling that rushes through me every time I step out on the stage.

Neil, Jett and Aaron are already out there, I can hear them strumming and tuning their guitars. Neil rasps quickly on his symbols. The DJ finishes his song and suddenly his loud and perfectly robust voice sounds through the speakers.

“I hope you’re all ready for South of Marshall! Get those asses on the dance floor and make some noise for Jett, Aaron, Neil and Leah!”

The crowd goes absolutely ballistic. The cheering and screaming is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. “Leah! Leah!” They cheer and clap in unison.

My heart thrums and Lucas gives me a reassuring nudge with her shoulder. “Go, girl. Do your thang.”

I think of Weston. His ridiculously unreal eyes, his fingertips on my skin, and his lips on my mouth. I smile so hard I’m probably blushing, but this is what it’s going to come down to. How he makes me feel is unlike anything else in the world. I don’t have to fake a smile, or pretend I’m okay. I can forget about everything that sucks, and focus on one thing…that man, and his pure divine self. The Adonis that is, Weston Casey. The man who needs
me
.

“Hey, everyone! How y’all feelin’ tonight?” I ask the multitude, searching for a cameraman. Found one. “I’m so thankful to be here tonight, and we’re thrilled you’re here too. Are you ready, people?” I scream the last out, twangin’ a country accent.

I turn and wink at Neil, who grins and lifts his arms to tap the drumsticks together. “One, two, three!” He shouts from behind me.

Jett and Aaron both slam down on the strings, sending ripples of tones out to the audience. Lucas gives me a thumbs-up from behind the curtain, and I turn back to the crowd and the cameras…and hopefully Weston.
I hope you’re watching this baby, this one’s for you.

This time, when I sing Mesmerized, I sing it for him and him alone. This time, there’s a face to put with the lyrics. And how true they ring out.

“My knees are weak, from your touch.

My heart beats, in this rush.

Just one moment, just one look.

I’m mesmerized, baby…”

“I’m still pumped! I could go another two hours…” Neil howls down the hallway in the back of the club after our final set.

“I couldn’t. I’m wrecked.” Aaron rolls his shoulders.

“Same,” Jett sighs.

“You guys are party poopers.” I sneer and wrap my arms around the pair. “Great show, though. They were loving it.”

“Guys! That was amazing, I think two encores wasn’t enough. They’re still thumping out there.” Lucas follows behind us and thumbs the screen of his phone. “No more though. Rest for GMNY.”

“Yes,
father
…we’ll get some sleep.” I tease.

Back in my hotel room, I’ve managed to convince Neil that I don’t need a sleepover buddy/protector and he went back to his room. I soak in the tub, and hum softly to Carrie Underwood’s newest hit. Its sweet and soft melody soothes me along with the lavender bath oil I’m submerged in.

Crawling into bed, I pull out my iPad and open the Google search with Weston’s pictures all over it. Sighing, I smile at his beautiful face…wishing that dirty mouth of his was kissing and licking me until I scream. Never ever have I felt like that, when he did that to me. I floated out of my body in that moment.

My fingers are nothing like his fingers or expert tongue. I traipse over my delicate and tender flesh, moaning quietly in my too big bed. My hand is soaked from my touch and the image of him on my screen. Over and over I rub and rub, trying to recreate the sensation of his contact. It’s all for not. I can’t do it. I can’t even make myself feel good. HE is what I need. His body on me and in me…where it’s supposed to be.

Frustrated, I withdraw from my pajama shorts and kick off my sheets in exasperation. The clock shows three-forty seven…If I’m going to sleep, I need to do it now. I force my eyes closed, and fall into a sweet and delicious dream of Weston.

***

Neil holds my hand when the car pulls up to Times Square Studios. Breathe, just breathe…I keep repeating the mantra over and over in my head.

“Ready?” Neil asks, his green eyes twinkling in the early morning sky.

“More than ever,” I answer, smiling and gripping his hand with white knuckles. “What would I do without you?”

“We won’t ever find out. Let’s go knock this one out.”

I stepped out of the car, is just like the last time. Except today, there are security guards everywhere, surrounding the car on all sides. No chance of a mystery woman holding a fake clipboard luring me into a dimly lit corner with a rag ready to knock me out.

Still, I find myself scanning the crowd of tall men. Trying to catch a glimpse. But I see nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary anyway. Neil tugs me inside, and I realize I wasn’t breathing the entire time I was outside because my lungs are burning, desperate for a breath now that I’m inside. I inhale, exhale…and inhale again.

Sitting in the glare of the studio lights, I’m sure I’m sweating buckets. My makeup had more than likely slid right off my face.

“Miss Marshall? Hello, I’m Gianna Morelli, so pleased to finally meet you!”

“Mrs. Morelli, it’s my pleasure. Thank you for having us again.”

“Oh, dear…we’re just so thankful you’re back. I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”

Gianna Morelli is beautiful. Exactly how a woman in her position should look. Big and gorgeous locks of dark brown hair, glimmering golden brown sugar eyes, and skin like warm honey. She’s breathtaking, actually. I remember my mom used to watch her when she was just a model on The Price is Right twenty years ago.

“Aaron and Jett, how are you both this morning?” Gianna asks when they walk into the studio and sit on either side of me.

“Great, thank you Mrs. Morelli.” Jett combs his hair with his fingers while Aaron adjusts the leather cuff on his wrist.