《Lucky Girl (Dear Rockstar #2)》


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    CHAPTER ONE


    ¡°Sara, where are you?¡± Aimee snapped her fingers and waved a hand in front of my face


    ¡°Huh?¡± I blinked in surprise at being caught, distracted, meeting her eyes in the mirror. I stopped picking little bits of baby¡¯s breath off the bouquet in my lap, wiping them off the satin of my dress and onto the carpeted floor. ¡°What? I¡¯m here. Right here.¡±


    Where are you? That was the question.


    Where are you, Dale Diamond?


    ¡°Liar.¡± Aimee gave her a knowing smirk. ¡°He¡¯ll be here. He promised.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t even thinking about Dale,¡± I lied.


    Of course he¡¯d promised. I¡¯d talked to him on the phone late last night. He was already supposed to be in my arms by then, but there had been more excuses.


    I know, I know, but they had us booked to tape some show and there was nothing I could do. I¡¯ll catch the redeye. Don¡¯t worry, sweetheart, I promise. I¡¯ll be home tomorrow.


    ¡°I was thinking about you.¡± I changed the subject, getting up from my perch on the edge of the counter, putting my bouquet down¡ªpink roses, white ribbons and baby¡¯s breath¡ªto join Aimee in front of the full length mirror where she stood in her wedding gown like something out of a fairy tale. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you¡¯re actually getting married.¡±


    ¡°More like finally!¡± Aimee rolled her eyes, leaning in to check her make-up. ¡°I¡¯ve only been planning for two years!¡±


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± I laughed. ¡°I was the one who helped you pick out the dress, remember?¡±


    ¡°Gorgeous isn¡¯t it?¡± Aimee sighed happily, eyes shining, as she ran her hands down the ivory satin brocade front of her gown. ¡°What will Matt think when he sees me?¡±


    Of course Matt hadn¡¯t seen her in her wedding gown, according to tradition. He was somewhere in the church with his bridegrooms, probably already starting in on the night¡¯s drinking, just to take the edge off the nerves.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to think he¡¯s the luckiest man in the world.¡± I leaned over and let my lips lightly brush my best friend¡¯s cheek, not wanting to leave a trace of lipstick or gloss. ¡°And he is.¡±


    Aimee sniffed, her eyes welling up and mine did too and then we were both hugging and laughing and crying a little, digging in our little clutches for Kleenex.


    ¡°Okay you two, break it up!¡± Wendy insisted as she slipped into the room. Carrie followed, not far behind. They were both wearing the same dress I had on¡ªblush satin, ruched bodice, full skirts that swept the floor when they walked. ¡°There¡¯s no crying before the wedding pictures!¡±


    I felt my heart sink when I saw the two of them¡ªnot that I didn¡¯t love them both dearly. Next to Aimee, they had become my closest friends since we¡¯d all managed to finally graduate from Iselin Academy, an alternative school for ¡°non-traditional students.¡± The latter just meant we were dropouts, for various reasons, and had to do our time. We¡¯d all managed to put in our hours and get our GEDs. Aimee called us the ¡°four musketeers.¡± No, it wasn¡¯t that I didn¡¯t want to see Wendy and Carrie¡ªit was that I¡¯d been hoping it would be Dale.


    Aimee¡¯s eyes brightened when the door opened, meeting Carrie¡¯s dark, heavily made-up eyes. She still managed to look a little punk, even though she¡¯d dyed all the pink streaks out of her hair and it was piled up in short pin-curls on top of her head. Wendy, too, had cleaned up for the wedding, her longer dark hair pulled back and up into a gorgeous, intricate bun, tendrils trailing down beside her pretty, round face. They both looked like goddesses sailing in, fresh and bright with their flower bouquets clutched in their hands.


    ¡°Is it time?¡± Aimee¡¯s shiny blue eyes widened. It was the first time I thought she looked really nervous.


    ¡°Not quite.¡± Wendy threw herself ungracefully into one of the chairs, tossing her bouquet onto the counter. ¡°They¡¯re still directing people to sides¡ªhis and hers.¡±


    ¡°Think if we got married, it would be hers and hers?¡± Carrie put her bouquet next to Wendy¡¯s, edging up to sit on the edge of the counter where I had been seated moments before.


    Wendy gave a short bark of a laugh. ¡°We couldn¡¯t get married in Vegas, let alone in a Catholic church. They¡¯d burn it to the ground first.¡±


    ¡°Catholics are stupid.¡± I made a face, glancing at Aimee. ¡°No offense.¡±


    ¡°Matt¡¯s the Catholic, not me.¡± Aimee tucked her Kleenex back into her little satin clutch. ¡°I just converted for the wine.¡±


    ¡°You mean my mom is the Catholic,¡± Carrie interjected. Matt was her older brother, one of five¡ªCarrie was the lone girl, and her very strict, Catholic mother had no idea her only daughter was a lesbian. ¡°Unless it¡¯s blessed by a priest, it didn¡¯t happen.¡±


    ¡°Oh it¡¯s happening.¡± Aimee leaned in to the mirror, rubbing a finger under one eye, getting rid of a slight mascara smudge. ¡°I¡¯m marrying your brother and we¡¯re going to live happily ever after.¡±


    ¡°Someone¡¯s gotta live the fairy tale.¡± Wendy grinned. ¡°Do you have something for all your superstitions? Old, new, borrowed, blue?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± Aimee scoffed. ¡°I¡¯ve got all the bases covered.¡±


    Aimee proceeded to show Wendy how she intended to assure her happily ever after by appeasing some ridiculous superstition with handkerchiefs, jewelry and garters.


    I took that opportunity to lean in and pose the question I was dying to ask.


    ¡°Hey, Carrie, did you happen to see¡­ him?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, doll. No sign yet.¡± Carrie shook her head. ¡°But you know Dale¡ªhe loves to make an entrance, right?¡±


    Wendy frowned, overhearing our conversation. ¡°If he doesn¡¯t show up, who are you going to walk down the aisle with?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be here,¡± Aimee insisted with far more confidence than I felt.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty close to the finish line, that¡¯s all,¡± Wendy mumbled.


    ¡°Did you see my mom?¡± Aimee asked. ¡°She said she was going to see if it was time yet. That was twenty minutes ago.¡±


    Carrie nodded. ¡°She¡¯s out there talking to Dale¡¯s dad.¡±


    I glanced at the door, thinking about John¡ªDale¡¯s father. Last night, I¡¯d spent the night at Aimee¡¯s, of course, but after we had our hair done together, we had parted ways. Aimee went back to her place, and I had gone home. The only home I had now. John had been amazing, taking me in after what I called my other life. He had taken me in because Dale loved me, but I knew John loved me too. He treated me like a daughter and I looked at him as a father. It was true, he already had a daughter¡ªbut never saw her. And I had a father¡ªbut I¡¯d never even seen a picture of him.


    We had driven to the church together, after I straightened John¡¯s untidy tie and made sure his long, dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. I remembered how we¡¯d exchanged glances¡ªhe said was coming. He promised. But we didn¡¯t say anything.


    We¡¯d lived together, all three of us¡ªDale, John and me¡ªin a little townhouse just outside of the Rutgers¡¯ campus, for two years. Two years of hit-and-miss Dale, but always steady, kind John. I couldn¡¯t have asked for a better replacement father figure if I¡¯d dreamed him up, and I was more than grateful for the man who had taken me in like a stray puppy out of a storm.


    All because Dale Diamond had chosen me.


    And I had to admit, I was still head over heels for him. Just thinking about him coming through that door, his slow, sexy smile, the dark light in his eyes when he saw me, made my heart gallop like wild horses. I imagined him taking three long strides and sweeping me into his arms, kissing me so hard my lips would bruise¡ªnot that I would care¡ªand whispering my name again and again, as if he wasn¡¯t quite sure I was real.


    Where are you, Dale Diamond?


    Outside, music began. Aimee¡¯s head came up and she turned to look toward the sound like a deer caught in headlights, eyes widening, mouth dropping open.


    ¡°Oh my God,¡± she whispered, and I saw her hands tremble a little as she gripped her bouquet. ¡°Oh my God, you guys, I¡¯m getting married!¡±


    ¡°We know!¡± We chorused, all three of us bridesmaids half-laughing, half-crying already, as we surrounded her in a sashay show of soft pink satin support. I had never seen my best friend look more beautiful or radiant¡ªand now, more nervous. We¡¯d been through everything together, and she was now about to sail through to this new, uncharted territory¡ªmarriage. Living together with one person. Forever.


    I didn¡¯t know how it was going to change our friendship and that scared me a little, but we¡¯d been best friends since grade school. I couldn¡¯t imagine a life without Aimee. I was thrilled for her, so much in love, so healthy and lovely and happy. It really was picture perfect, a snapshot that deserved to be saved in time.


    As if on cue, the photographer came in again¡ªthey¡¯d done all the pre-wedding shots already¡ªcarrying a big digital camera. We didn¡¯t really pay attention to him. We were too busy fussing over Aimee, her dress and veil and hair and make-up, as he started taking candids, but I knew these were memories the bride would look back on with a sort of gauzy, sweet fondness for the rest of her life.


    A day made of perfection.


    What more could you ask for in a wedding?


    So why, I wondered, as I took a step back, watching Carrie and Wendy ready Aimee¡¯s long train, did it all make me feel so sad?


    Because I want Dale.


    The realization was a stab to my belly. It was true. I did want him. I wanted him and I wanted this. This together, forever, moving forward with him, starting a life. I wanted a wedding, a marriage, a start, all those things he¡¯d promised me when he got down on one knee in front of thirty-thousand people two years ago and proposed. I looked at the ring on my hand¡ªa tiny little diamond, but it meant so much. His promise. Our life together.


    But I couldn¡¯t have what Aimee had. Not yet. I had to wait.


    And the waiting was killing me.


    ¡°It¡¯s time!¡± Aimee¡¯s mother popped her head into the door with a stage-whisper, and I saw tears in Mrs. Wells¡¯ eyes when she saw her only daughter turn toward her in her wedding dress, Aimee¡¯s gorgeous red hair piled high, her cheeks as pink as her bridesmaids¡¯ dresses. Linda Wells was a single mom, a hard-working lawyer, smart and sharp and always well-dressed, but she turned to a puddle at the sight of her baby girl about to get married.


    I couldn¡¯t help but think of my mother and the thought made me want to cry too.


    Enough, I told myself. This is Aimee¡¯s day. Get your head out of the way.


    My therapist would have told me it was okay to feel the feelings, whatever they were¡ªbut I couldn¡¯t, still, a lot of the time. They felt, mostly, like they didn¡¯t belong to me at all. Today they were far too close to the surface for comfort. I felt fragile and on edge and far too raw to be out in public, exposed and on display.


    ¡°Come here, Mom!¡± Aimee stretched out her hand, smiling, and Mrs.Wells came in, shutting the door behind her. They touched cheeks and held hands and there were more wet eyes and whispered words and tissue, the camera snapping away. The music outside grew louder, insistent.

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    ¡°It¡¯s really time?¡± Aimee asked, glancing around at the circle of women.


    ¡°The boys are out there,¡± her mother replied. ¡°Line up. Wendy, Carrie. Then Sara, as maid of honor. And finally, the bride. We¡¯ll go out into the back hall and pair up before you walk down the aisle. Your father¡¯s waiting.¡±


    Aimee¡¯s father was giving her away. Her parents been divorced for years and had their issues but it was funny how a wedding broke down all those barriers. I had seen them talking earlier, two people who could barely stand to be in the same room together, clasping hands, eyes bright, talking about the child they had brought into the world twenty years ago, happy for their daughter in spite of whatever had happened in between.


    ¡°Matt¡¯s out there,¡± Aimee whispered.


    ¡°He¡¯s waiting.¡± I nodded, thinking of Dale, who wasn¡¯t.


    Was he?


    I saw a stray eyelash on Aimee¡¯s cheek and instead of brushing it away, I plucked it up between thumb and forefinger.


    ¡°Oh, quick Sara, make a wish!¡± Aimee insisted. ¡°Hurry!¡±


    I didn¡¯t believe in fate or superstitions or any of that stuff. But Aimee did.


    Just this once, I wanted to believe too.


    My senses were full of Dale, imagining him right there, bigger than life. The thought of him being out there, right now, waiting for me, brought gooseflesh up on my arms. Everything looked hazy and far away and I closed my eyes for a moment, making a wish, the one Aimee had taught me when we were kids, before opening my eyes and blowing the eyelash gently off my finger.


    ¡°It will come true,¡± Aimee urged, looking at the door. We were both thinking about what might lay beyond it for us. ¡°I wonder what he¡¯s thinking,¡±


    I knew she meant Matt, Aimee¡¯s future husband. Her very near future husband.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to think you look BEE-utiful!¡± Carrie snorted, nudging her future sister-in-law with an elbow, dredging up an old joke¡ªthe one Matt and Aimee had met over.


    I couldn¡¯t help laughing but Aimee gave me a quelling look so I turned my face and tried to hide my smile. Aimee was irrationally terrified of bees and had made a fool of herself in front of Matt trying to get away from one. He had, like most boys, picked it up and run with it, creating the most interesting bee puns imaginable to mercilessly tease her about it.


    Which only proved, of course, that he liked her after all. Just like their kindergartner teacher, Mrs. Stowe, had once told them.


    In fact, Matt had liked her enough to marry her.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, let¡¯s go!¡± Mrs. Wells ushered us toward the door, the photographer following, camera still going. There were two more photographers in the church, along with a video camera. Aimee wasn¡¯t missing a moment of the day.


    My heart dropped when I got to the door and saw the guys in their tuxes in the hallway with their matching pink cummerbunds¡ªtwo of Matt¡¯s brothers. No Dale. It was time and he wasn¡¯t here. The music swelled. I could feel the church, full and warm, the congregation restless, waiting for the show to begin. My belly fluttered, excited, nervous. But there was a hollow space there, a holding cell, something missing.


    Dale, where are you?


    Aimee¡¯s father took her arm, whispering something into her ear, making her blush and smile. It was such a simple, sweet thing, and my heart felt like it was being torn from my chest. My father would never walk me down the aisle¡ªif I ever made it to one.


    ¡°Oh! My bouquet!¡± I remembered¡ªI¡¯d left it sitting on the counter.


    I rushed back into the room. It was quiet and still now, the bustling energy all gathered out in the hallway. My bouquet was on the counter and I grabbed it, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. It was the spot where Aimee had been standing, the bride-to-be, just moments before. My maid-of-honor dress was lovely and I smoothed it over my belly. It thankfully hid all my scars. Aimee had been very cognizant of that. Besides, Aimee had insisted there would be no half-undressed Madonnas at her wedding.


    Just long, pink, flowing dresses and a perfect June wedding day.


    I had gone early that morning to the hairdresser with Aimee¡ªafter a night sleeping over, of course, just like we used to before Tyler Vincent concerts. We¡¯d giggled and stayed up talking just like old times, too excited to sleep much. We¡¯ve even watched MTV, although now I was waiting to hear Dale¡¯s music, not Tyler¡¯s. It was Dale whose dark looks and deep blue eyes made me swoon. I¡¯d spent so much of my adolescence on Tyler¡ªwhen I looked back, it felt like a wasted life. But I knew it had served a purpose. Tyler had gotten me through some tough times. And if my obsession with rock star Tyler Vincent felt like a million years ago, it was still part of the thread of our past. And, in some ways, our future. I couldn¡¯t just forget him, but he had faded, like so many things.


    Like my scars.


    I twirled the blond tendrils at the sides of my face, adding a little extra curl and bounce. My face was flushed, eyes bright¡ªI looked for all the world like a happy maid-of-honor, and on the outside, that was perfect. But it was always the things hidden underneath, the darkness no one else saw, that mattered most.


    The door opened.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming!¡± I called, turning with my bouquet in hand, putting on my brightest face.


    And it was him.


    Dale slipped into the room and knocked the breath from me instantly. He wore a black tux, his hair cut short now, no longer the shaggy mess it had been when I met him. I couldn¡¯t remember whose decision it had been¡ªwhich manager or producer or publicist¡ªbut I liked the change. I could see his eyes, all that dark heat focused directly on me. It had been a month since we¡¯d been in the same room together and here he was, finally materialized in front of me like a dream.


    I wasn¡¯t sure I wasn¡¯t dreaming until he spoke.


    ¡°Sara.¡± Just my name, but it was in his mouth, soft and full, spoken like a little prayer.


    And then he was on me, just as I¡¯d pictured it¡ªtwo strides and I was in his arms, swept up into his embrace, mouth crushing mine with the force of a kiss we¡¯d both been waiting for, longing for, dreaming about and remembering. It was like breathing again after being so long underwater you forgot where you were.


    It was like coming home.


    ¡°You¡¯re home,¡± I murmured against his lips, the heat of his body burning me like a brand, even through the layers of satin, far too much fabric between us. My God, I wanted him. There was a whole world waiting out there for us, a church full of people¡ªit was Aimee¡¯s day, not mine¡ªbut I was so full of him in that moment I could have forgotten it all. That was what Dale Diamond did to me.


    ¡°I promised.¡± He nuzzled my neck, sending delicious shivers down my arms, actually making goose bumps. I clutched at him, flowers still in my hand, arms around his neck, unable to believe he was here, real, flesh. ¡°I told you, I¡¯ll always come for you.¡±


    I smiled at his words, those sweet song lyrics he¡¯d written just for me. They were the first single on his album, just released and doing so well on the charts it was dazzling. I heard ¡°my¡± song on the radio twenty times a day, saw Dale on MTV more now than I¡¯d ever seen Tyler Vincent back during my dark, obsessive rock star days. And still, I craved more this man.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t wait to come home to you,¡± he whispered, lips burning a trail along my neck. ¡°I can¡¯t think about anything but you when you¡¯re not with me.¡±


    ¡°I know. Me too.¡± I moaned softly as his hands moving over my dress, all that flowing, slippery satin. I felt his desperation, his urgency, and met it, using my bouquet of flowers to draw his head in toward me to kiss him hard, giving me a strong, heady combination of sweet roses and Dale to fill my senses. Our tongues met and slid and our mouths and arms locked as we lost and found each other in the moment.


    ¡°Okay you two, break it up!¡± Carrie poked her head in, grinning. ¡°Get a room!¡±


    ¡°I intend to,¡± Dale whispered, his hand pressed to the flat of my back, keeping me close as he turned to glance at Carrie. I could barely breathe, I wanted him so much. I tried to clear my head but Dale wouldn¡¯t let me go.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, we¡¯ve got a wedding about to start out here, remember?¡± Wendy¡¯s head appeared next to Carrie¡¯s. She was grinning too.


    ¡°Right.¡± I took a deep breath, putting a hand on Dale¡¯s chest and pushing him away¡ªslightly. ¡°Let¡¯s go walk down the aisle, handsome. We¡¯ll get in trouble later.¡±


    He didn¡¯t let me go so easily, bending his head to whisper into my ear, ¡°Promise?¡±


    ¡°With you?¡± I smiled, twirling away from him in my dress. I felt lighter than air. ¡°That¡¯s always a promise.¡±


    He grinned, following me out the door.


    CHAPTER TWO


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to get you home.¡± Dale pressed his lips to my ear and I shivered, toes curling in my matching dyed-pink heels as his mouth trailed down my exposed neck, forcing me to tilt my head sideways. His hands wandered down the satin back of the dress, stopping at the large pink bow in back, giving it a gentle tug. ¡°And out of this dress.¡±


    ¡°Shhh, Dale.¡± I giggled, but I didn¡¯t really mean it as he tugged harder, finding it sewn on, just for decoration.


    There were bodies dancing all around us to I¡¯ll Be Loving You by New Kids on the Block. It was number one on the charts for weeks in June of 1989¡ªI¡¯d started paying close attention to the Billboard Charts again just like I had back when I was obsessed with rock star Tyler Vincent. I was hoping Dale¡¯s band, Black Diamond, was going to rock that insipid little boy band out of the lead. I Will Always Come For You had climbed the charts like a rocket and was holding at number eight.


    Things were finally winding down. Dinner had been sit-down and because I was in the bridal party, I was seated with the rest of the bridesmaids, a solid row of pink. As maid of honor, I sat next to Aimee, who kept groaning and rolling her eyes during dinner because the clatter of knives rapping on champagne glasses kept interrupting the meal, signaling the bride and groom to kiss.


    ¡°My lips are going to be chapped!¡± Aimee had protested, but she hadn¡¯t looked truly unhappy when she turned her face to Matt¡¯s.


    After that, everyone mingled. The DJ played everything from Paula Abdul¡¯s Straight Up to Tone Loc¡¯s Wild Thing and Dale pulled me onto the dance floor and wouldn¡¯t let me go. Being on a dance floor with Dale Diamond was like sex and it gave us both an excuse to touch. We clung to each other during the slow songs and dirty danced our way through the fast ones, only we were far worse than Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey had been in the movie. We even dirty danced through that song¡ªThe Time of My Life¡ªDale¡¯s body propelling me around the dance floor like I was attached to him, my pelvis locked with his.


    I had insisted on going over to see the cutting of the cake¡ªboth because I didn¡¯t want to miss it and because I was so turned-on I thought everyone must be able to tell. I had to have a little break or Dale was going to make me come for him right there on the dance floor! So we¡¯d watched the newlyweds cut the three-tiered columned wedding cake decorated with¡ªof course¡ªpink roses.

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    Aimee had told me that Matt was planning to get her face full of cake when they fed each other bites of the first-cut piece, but she got him first, smearing it all down his chin. I had never understood that tradition, but they looked like they were enjoying themselves, licking cake off their fingers¡ªand each other.


    Then it was back onto the dance floor with Dale and the endless torture of his lean, hard body against mine, the musky, masculine smell of him filling my nostrils, the sweet sound of his voice as he sang along to his song¡ªmy song. They were playing it, I Will Always Come For You. My wish had come true¡ªhe was here in my arms, this close¡ªyet neither of us could really do what we wanted to. The dance was just a slow, hot tease, heightening my senses and making me dizzy with lust.


    The music changed and I lifted my head from Dale¡¯s shoulder in surprise.


    ¡°Chicken dance!¡± Carrie exclaimed, hooking her hands under her armpits, elbows out, flapping her ¡°wings.¡±


    ¡°I think we can sit this one out.¡± Dale laughed, taking my hand and leading me off the floor. As more people crowded on to do the goofy, traditional chicken dance, Dale pulled me past the tables decorated with pink and white roses as centerpieces, out of the room and down a quiet hallway.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I whispered although there was no one there to hear me.


    Instead of answering, Dale turned and pressed me to the wall, instantly taking my breath away. His mouth coaxed mine open¡ªnot that I needed much coaxing¡ªand I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling his thigh slide snuggly between mine, a perfect fit. His hands moved over my dress with a frustrated urgency, as if fabric was something new and foreign to him, something that just shouldn¡¯t exist between the two of us. And I couldn¡¯t have agreed more.


    ¡°Dale!¡± I gasped when he broke the kiss to trail his mouth down over my collarbone, his hands cupping my breasts through the slippery material. My nipples were so hard they hurt. I ached all over, wanting him, feeling suddenly inadequate to fill his urgent need. Dale eclipsed everything. He gave off a kind of energy everyone noticed, but when he was like this, nuzzling and rutting against me, growling things that might have been words, once, against my skin, he was like a caged animal pacing back and forth, his gaze never leaving his prey.


    ¡°What if someone comes,¡± I whispered, imagining one of Aimee¡¯s prim out-of-state aunts wandering down this hallway, catching me with my dress halfway up and Dale¡¯s hands roaming over my bodice.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± His words were muffled in my cleavage, his breath hot against my skin. I slid my hands through his hair, still marveling at how short it was now. He was like a different person without his ragtop shock of dark hair always falling over his eyes. Now I could see the dark heat in them when he lifted his face to mine, capturing my mouth again in a kiss that sent hot, white tingles through me, like shooting stars, traveling like lightning through my veins.


    He forced me harder against the wall, reaching down and grabbing me by the hips, lifting me so our bodies were matched, even, his pelvis pressed into mine. I clasped his waist between my thighs, hanging on for dear life as if his kiss was a wild roller coaster and I the only rider. This was the energy he gave out on stage in front of thousands¡ªsoon to be hundreds of thousands¡ªof people. But here, it was all for me and I drank it in like sweet liquid after a thousand mile trek across a desert.


    ¡°Oh God, Sara, I want you so fucking bad,¡± he whispered against my lips. I felt how much he wanted me, in spite of all the fabric between us. ¡°Can we please just go now?¡±


    I moaned, feeling his hips shift, pressing harder, if that was even possible, between my open thighs, and almost gave in. But I glanced down the hallway and saw someone coming out of the dining room, where Aimee and Matt¡¯s reception was still going on.


    ¡°After she throws the bouquet.¡± I could barely get the words out¡ªhe had his full weight against me, and it was alarmingly delightful.


    Now it was his turn to groan. ¡°You promise?¡±


    ¡°Well, Matt has to throw the garter,¡± I replied, smiling as he lifted his head, his cheeks as flushed as mine felt. I touched that sweet little dimple in his chin, remembering the very first time I¡¯d done that, and how long I¡¯d thought about doing it before it ever happened¡ªbefore Dale had been mine. ¡°And then the guy who catches it has to put it on the girl who caught the bouquet.¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t they outlawed that tradition yet?¡± His gaze had dipped down again to my cleavage. I wasn¡¯t outrageously blessed in that department, but the dress, and the bra underneath it, did wonders. ¡°Didn¡¯t Carrie and Wendy say it was sexist?¡±


    I laughed, remembering that conversation. Both girls had been adamant that it wasn¡¯t so much the bouquet and garter throwing part¡ªwhoever caught it, according to superstition, would be the next person married¡ªit was the girl who caught the bouquet sitting in a chair in the middle of the dance floor and the guy who caught the garter sliding it higher and higher and higher up her leg while the DJ played some sort of stripper music. That last part was sexist, they insisted, and should be outlawed. Dale obviously agreed, although his reasoning wasn¡¯t quite the same, I was sure of it.


    ¡°Aimee insisted. It¡¯s really just harmless fun¡± I felt him letting me go, relenting, and I planted a soft kiss on his cheek as he set me on her feet again. I clung to him anyway. I was still too dizzy to stand up straight. Dale took a deep breath, kissing the top of my head, all arranged in curls.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go see if we can move them along.¡± He took my hand and led me back down the hallway, head down, like a bull charging a matador. I stumbled after him, trying to keep up¡ªhe was in an awful hurry! I was out of breath by the time we turned the corner and went back into the room.


    ¡°Dale!¡± I laughed, tugging on the sleeve of his coat. I still couldn¡¯t get over how handsome¡ªand different¡ªhe looked in a tux. ¡°Slow down!¡±


    He stopped so abruptly I almost ran into him. Then he turned and took me into his arms. The moment our eyes met, everything else melted away in a sea of white and pink around the edges of my vision. Aimee had made sure her pink and white theme carried through from the church to the hall. There was a huge display of decorative pink and white balloons behind the head table, near where they stood. Dale had teased Aimee all night that he was going to use them for dart practice.


    ¡°If I don¡¯t get my hands on you in the next hour, I¡¯m going to take you right there on the head table.¡± Dale whispered this into my ear and I felt a deep, crimson heat fill my cheeks. I laughed nervously, feeling his arms tighten around me. ¡°I¡¯m not kidding.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Mr. Impatient.¡± I smiled, twisting out of his arms and twirling away. Like I was any more patient? But I didn¡¯t tell him that. ¡°I¡¯ll go see what I can do.¡±


    I reached the head table, where Aimee and Matt sat, heads bowed, talking. It was such a sweet, intimate moment, I didn¡¯t want to break it up. Then I remembered Dale¡¯s whispered words and they propelled me forward.


    ¡°Hey, Aims.¡± I leaned on the table in front of them. ¡°Are you guys doing the bouquet toss soon?¡±


    ¡°In a hurry to get somewhere?¡± Aimee looked up, raising her eyebrows, but she was grinning. She knew exactly why I¡¯d asked.


    ¡°Well¡­ you know¡­¡± And I thought my cheeks couldn¡¯t get any more red.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go find the photographer.¡± Matt stood, looking down at his bride. She looked stunning in all that white satin, her cheeks rosy from dancing. Even with her veil slightly askew¡ªthe headband securing it had slipped¡ªshe was just gorgeous. ¡°I think he¡¯s out there mingling and taking candids.¡±


    ¡°You look gorgeous,¡± I said, voicing my thoughts as I came around the table, taking the seat Matt had vacated. The rest of the bridesmaids were out dancing to Cyndi Lauper¡¯s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. As always, I scanned the room for Dale. He¡¯d been waylaid by his father. John leaned his head in close to Dale so he could be heard over the music.


    ¡°You look like you¡¯ve been making out in the hallway.¡± Aimee reached up and straightened her veil. ¡°This damned thing.¡±


    I gaped at her, the blush spreading down my cheeks to her throat.


    ¡°Wendy saw you leave.¡± Aimee laughed, seeing the shocked expression on my face. ¡°She peeked.¡±


    ¡°Oh God.¡± I reached out to help Aimee secure her veil because no self-respecting maid of honor would let the bride walk around like that. I finally got the veil straight¡ªthere were little combs with teeth that grabbed onto her hair. ¡°Did anyone else see?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Aimee shrugged. ¡°Besides, who cares? Everyone¡¯s drunk and having a good time. I can¡¯t wait to get into the hot tub.¡±


    I laughed. Aimee and Matt were staying at a hotel for one night. Their flight to St. Bart¡¯s left in the morning and they would be gone for a full two week honeymoon. Matt knew the boss, so he¡¯d been able to get the time off¡ªhe worked at his dad¡¯s accounting firm.


    ¡°So what are you and Mr. Rockstar going to do tonight?¡± Aimee smirked like she knew exactly what we were going to do. And she¡¯s probably right. Aimee and Matt were going to have wedding-night sex, but I thought nothing could beat homecoming sex. Every time Dale had to travel for an extended period, the sexual tension between them built up, like a pressure cooker, the temperature rising and rising until it finally burst the moment they touched again.


    ¡°He says he can¡¯t wait to get me out of this dress.¡± I blushed at the memory of his words, meeting Aimee¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Funny, Matt said the same thing about mine!¡±


    We both laughed, exchanging a knowing look. Aimee could practically read my mind and vice versa, we¡¯d been friends so long. I sat back in my chair, looking around the room we¡¯d planned to the last detail while we lolled around on Aimee¡¯s living room floor, eating popcorn and watching MTV. We went through hundreds of Brides magazines, cutting out the perfect centerpiece, the perfect dress, creating the perfect wedding. I couldn¡¯t believe it had actually all gone according to plan.


    I couldn¡¯t help but think of how far we¡¯d come in the last two years. We didn¡¯t talk about it much anymore, but that last dark year of high school had impacted them both enough that graduation had to be put off. But I wasn¡¯t sorry about that, not anymore. If I hadn¡¯t attended Iselin Academy, we would never have gotten close to Carrie and Wendy. Aimee never would have met Carrie¡¯s brother, Matt.


    And Sara never would have met Dale Diamond.


    That was something she just couldn¡¯t imagine.


    Aimee was the one who believed in fate and superstition and magic. I didn¡¯t quite believe, but I sometimes did them anyway, wishing on an eyelash or a shooting star, hoping Aimee was right and the world might really deliver things that were kind and good. I had hope because the universe or God or whatever force it was that moved the world had delivered Dale Diamond to me. For that alone, I would be forever grateful.

 Page 4

    CHAPTER THREE


    ¡°Time to throw your bouquet!¡± Carrie rushed up to the table carrying a smaller version of Aimee¡¯s bouquet. Aimee¡¯s was so big and full, sitting on the table in front of her, it looked like a showpiece. ¡°I¡¯m gonna catch it!¡±


    ¡°Oh no you¡¯re not!¡± I bolted around the table, reaching for it, but Carrie held it out of my reach. She was five inches taller than me on a day when she wasn¡¯t wearing four inch heels. All of the Green kids were tall.


    ¡°Okay, okay.¡± Aimee laughed, swishing around the end of the table. Her train was all bustled up but she swished when she walked because there was so much fabric. ¡°Give it to me, you vultures, and line up with the rest of the girls!¡±


    Carrie reluctantly handed over the flowers. The DJ was doing his thing, calling out, ¡°All the single ladies onto the dance floor. It¡¯s your chance to catch the bouquet and see if you¡¯ll be the next lucky lady to catch her man!¡±


    All the girls squealed and jostled for position. I reached down and pulled off my heels, standing there in my nylons, the floor cold, but I didn¡¯t care. I tossed my shoes aside and saw Dale standing there with his dad. Dale had his arms crossed over his chest, a bemused look on his face as he watched all the drama. John just winked at me.


    ¡°Watch my shoes!¡± I pointed to them and John reached over and picked them up.


    A few girls saw my strategy and started taking off their shoes too. Carrie was next to me and the taller girl didn¡¯t unstrap her four-inch heels. Hers was clearly a treetop strategy. She could see over all their heads and her arm¡¯s reach was freakishly long, probably twice mine.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± the DJ called.


    Girls screeched and elbowed each other in front of me. I went up on my tiptoes, trying to see and then saw my chance. I moved a little to the left, behind one of the junior bridesmaids¡ªAimee¡¯s cousin, Lauren. She was just ten, but the important thing was, she was short and I could see over her head.


    The DJ began the countdown.


    ¡°On three!¡± he said. Aimee gave him a nod, holding the bouquet over her head and glancing back over her shoulder, looking at the gaggle of girls waiting to jump for it.


    One


    My heart raced. It was stupid. Just a superstition. I didn¡¯t even believe in superstitions.


    Two


    It didn¡¯t mean anything if I didn¡¯t catch it. It didn¡¯t mean Dale wasn¡¯t going to marry me. And even if I did catch it, that didn¡¯t mean anything either.


    Three


    The bouquet sailed through the air, pink and white ribbons fluttering madly, and I could have sworn I had never wanted anything quite so badly in my life. The trajectory was skewed to my left, which was good¡ªit was away from Carrie¡¯s long arm, which stretched in front of me, barring my way. So I ducked under it, elbowing Lauren aside and grabbing the hanging ribbons, tugging the bouquet toward me.


    I got it!


    I had it, for a moment. The ribbons were clenched tightly in my fist and I yanked on them, realizing there was some resistance. It was Lauren. She had hold of the handle underneath. But I wasn¡¯t going to let a ten year old who had at least another decade to wait before marriage win this little tug of war.


    ¡°Gimme it!¡± Lauren snarled.


    ¡°No way, kid!¡± I growled right back, grabbing the handle underneath, above the younger girl¡¯s grip, and I yanked it free. ¡°This is mine!¡±


    I held it up in triumph and the crowd cheered. Lauren pouted, crossing her arms over her chest, but Aimee came over to put an arm around the girl.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a long way to go before you¡¯re really ready to catch a bouquet,¡± Aimee said with a laugh, nudging her young cousin. The girl gave her a reluctant smile. ¡°Besides, you know what happens next?¡±


    The girl shook her head.


    ¡°Matt throws the garter and whoever catches it gets to put it on the girl who caught the bouquet.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a garter?¡±


    Aimee leaned down to whisper in her ear.


    ¡°Ewww!¡±


    ¡°See, aren¡¯t you glad Sara caught it instead?¡±


    It suddenly occurred to me that I was going to have to sit in the chair the DJ was unfolding in the middle of the dance floor.


    Dale didn¡¯t look very happy about me catching the bouquet when I joined them, taking my shoes back from John and slipping them on.


    ¡°I caught it.¡± I held it up, triumphant, although now I felt a little sheepish, seeing that look on Dale¡¯s face. ¡°What? What did I do?¡±


    ¡°No way.¡± Dale shook his head as the girls dispersed, laughing and talking. The DJ was calling for all the single men to come out onto the dance floor. ¡°There is no way another guy is going to¡­¡±


    He couldn¡¯t even finish the sentence. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he looked out over the dance floor at the gathering of guys, like he was sizing them up, getting ready to do battle.


    He looked down at his waist, reaching around and unhooking the pink cummerbund that had come with the tuxedo. All the guys in the wedding party were wearing them.


    ¡°Hold this.¡±


    He handed the pink band of material to his father and John took it, shaking his head.


    That was the first time I realized Dale was wearing a belt¡ªhis belt¡ªunder his cummerbund. It was black and studded and had belonged to his father. Not John, but Dale¡¯s real father. I still couldn¡¯t believe John didn¡¯t know that Dale¡ªand Dale¡¯s sister Chrissy, who lived in Maine with her mother¡ªwasn¡¯t really his. I understood why Dale kept it a secret, but I didn¡¯t like it. If it were me, I would want to know. Sometimes I wondered if Dale might harbor the belief that if John found out, he wouldn¡¯t love his son anymore.


    I knew that was impossible. John loved me, and I wasn¡¯t his real daughter. If he ever discovered the truth, I knew he would still love Dale and think of him as he always had¡ªas his son.


    ¡°Dale.¡± I leaned in closer, touching his forearm. ¡°It¡¯s okay, really. I¡ª¡±


    He turned and kissed me, crushing his lips against mine. He had me by the upper arms, holding my whole body against him and then just as quickly as it had happened, he let me go. I almost stumbled, but John was there to catch my arm.


    ¡°You¡¯re mine.¡± That¡¯s all he said before he turned and stalked over to the laughing, joking group of guys who were, I had just noticed, all fixated on me. Of course, because I was going to be the one sitting in that folding chair, pulling up the hemline of my dress, so one lucky gentleman could slide the white garter with the blue bow up, up, up, my leg, until¡­


    ¡°He¡¯s just Fred Flintstone to your Wilma, isn¡¯t he?¡± Aimee laughed, joining them.


    She¡¯d overheard Dale¡¯s emphatic you¡¯re mine. Aimee liked to joke that Dale would drag me around by the hair like a Neanderthal if he had his way. It wasn¡¯t like that, but it was hard to explain.


    Matt and Aimee loved each other, but I¡¯d watched them as a couple for two years and realized it was different than what I had with Dale. They joked and teased each other, they held hands and Matt always kissed her goodbye and said I love you, but their energy wasn¡¯t the same as ours. Aimee and Matt¡¯s love was the tropical beach kind with sunshine and palm trees and white sand¡ªnot unlike the place they¡¯d decided to honeymoon together.


    Our love was more like a hurricane. Category five.


    ¡°You probably should have let the ten year old have it.¡± John shook his head again, wearing the same bemused smile I¡¯d seen on Dale when I rushed off into trouble to catch the bouquet. ¡°They would have cancelled the garter toss.¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± I agreed with perfect 20/20 hindsight vision.


    The DJ was getting to the counting stage. Dale was waiting. I could almost see how tense his limbs were under that tux, like he was ready to burst through the material itself. He was like a cat waiting to pounce, focused on his target but still paying full attention to his periphery¡ªand his competition.


    I closed my eyes and sent up a little prayer to¡­ whoever¡­


    If you¡¯re up there, or out there, or wherever, whatever you are, will you please just let him catch it because¡­ because he loves me¡­ and he wants to protect me¡­ and he¡¯s right, I am his. I belong, heart and soul, to Dale Diamond, for better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and health, all those things they said in the vows today. Even if I never get to say them in a church, they¡¯re all true. I¡¯ve said them all in my heart. I am his and I don¡¯t want any other man to ever come between us again.


    I opened my eyes, whispering a little, ¡°Amen,¡± as the DJ started to count to three.


    One


    Dale¡¯s eyes widened, focused on the garter. Matt was very tall¡ªhe played basketball in high school, all the Green boys did¡ªso it was easy to see the target.


    Two


    Matt waved the garter back and forth and Dale¡¯s eyes followed it like a big cat watching its prey zig zag in hopes of getting away.


    Three


    A sea of black suits and tuxes fell onto each other reaching for one little bit of white satin.


    ¡°I can¡¯t look.¡± I turned and buried my head against John¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Tell me when it¡¯s over.¡±


    Please, please, please, just let it be him, let it be Dale, please¡­


    ¡°I got it!¡±


    That wasn¡¯t Dale¡¯s voice.


    My eyes flew open and I saw Steven, one of Matt¡¯s brothers, holding his fist up high in the air¡ªand he was tall, like Matt, so that fist was really high in the air. And still Dale stayed focused on his target. He jostled guys aside to get to Steven.


    ¡°We have a winner!¡± the DJ announced. ¡°If the little lady and the lucky man would step over to the chair please.¡±


    The chair. I looked at it, sitting alone in the middle of the dance floor as the guys started to disperse, slapping Steven on the back and making wisecracks about copping a feel and how high could he go? I took a step toward the chair, glancing over at Dale, and then looked back to the chair. It stood waiting. I felt like I was walking to the electric chair, not a little metal fold-up from the hall¡¯s basement.


    ¡°Come on, don¡¯t be shy!¡± the DJ called. Other girls pressed around me, the ones who hadn¡¯t caught the bouquet, urging me toward the chair. I took another step, looking over at Dale. He was saying something to Steven, who was so tall Steven had to lean down to hear him. Music played. Keep Your Hands to Yourself by the Georgia Satellites was apparently the song choice for copping a feel. Ironic.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to.¡± Aimee¡¯s voice, behind me. ¡°Really, you don¡¯t.¡±


    But the crowd was gathering, this time near the chair. Everyone wanted to see the show and I was the star.


    ¡°Dale,¡± I called, but it only came out as a squeak. The crowd pushed and pulled me, getting its way. I couldn¡¯t fight the momentum. I managed another, ¡°Dale!¡± louder this time, but I¡¯d lost sight of him, somewhere behind me.


    Then I was sitting on the folding chair, everyone looking at me.


    This isn¡¯t happening.


    I closed my eyes, wishing it away. How many times had I done that? Sometimes it even worked. My mind flashed back to the last time a man touched me when I hadn¡¯t wanted him to. I had willed it away. Granted, Steven was harmless and I knew he wouldn¡¯t overstep his bounds. He was certainly nothing compared to the stepbeast. I shivered, remembering, trying to unremember everything with my words.

 Page 5

    This isn¡¯t happening. This is not happening.


    I couldn¡¯t stop shivering like I was cold, but the room was actually warm from all the body heat and the candles on the tables.


    ¡°You ready for this?¡±


    I gasped, opening my eyes.


    ¡°Dale!¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡± He grinned, holding up the garter.


    I didn¡¯t bother asking how. Matt¡¯s brother had obviously conceded, and the garter¡ªalong with the garter-holder¡¯s responsibilities¡ªnow rested with Dale. He held it up, stretching it, wiggling his eyebrows and ogling as I slid the hemline of my skirt slowly upward. Everyone was watching, laughing at Dale¡¯s antics. He pulled the garter back like a rubber band, making a show of taking aim, and let it go. It hit my chest and fell into my cleavage.


    ¡°Nice hit!¡± someone called out.


    ¡°Now go get it, boy!¡±


    ¡°With your mouth!¡±


    Okay that was enough. I blushed and threw it back to him.


    ¡°Are you gonna play with it or are you gonna put it on her?¡±


    All the voices blended together. I couldn¡¯t differentiate one from the other. And I couldn¡¯t focus on anything but Dale on one knee in front of me. It was the proposal stance and my breath caught as he looked up at me, garter in hand. I hadn¡¯t seen him do this since the night Black Diamond won MTV¡¯s Battle of the Bands, the night our lives changed forever. It was also the night he proposed, just like this, on one knee in front of thirty thousand people, holding out a velvet box and asking me to marry him.


    I was still wearing the ring. I never took it off.


    Dale grabbed my left foot, sliding my shoe off, letting it clatter to the floor. He tickled my instep and I giggled, pointing my toes as he slipped the garter over my foot.


    ¡°Higher!¡± the DJ called, encouraging the crowd¡ªnot that they needed encouragement. I was starting to lean toward Wendy and Carrie¡¯s assessment of this ridiculous tradition. It was beyond sexist¡ªit bordered on obscene. Of course, Dale wasn¡¯t helping. Every time he moved the garter up when they yelled, ¡°Higher!¡± he would lean down and plant a kiss there, first the top of my foot, then my ankle, now my shin. I was only peripherally aware of the photographer circling us, getting pictures for posterity. Great, we would forever be captured in Aimee¡¯s wedding book like this, me blushing with Dale¡¯s hand up my dress.


    ¡°Higher!¡±


    Just below my knee. Could he feel me trembling? I met his eyes and saw the heat there. We would go home after this. I had promised. The look on his face told me we might not even make it to the parking lot, let alone home.


    ¡°Higher!¡±


    His lips brushed my leg, just above my knee. He held my calf in one hand, cradling it as he moved his way up my thigh, inching his body between them.


    ¡°Dale!¡± I whispered, glancing around at the overly interested crowd.


    ¡°Higher! Higher! Higher!¡± they called.


    Another inch, two, three. My skirt was almost all the way up, the garter pushed up to mid-thigh.


    ¡°Higher!¡±


    His mouth on my inner thigh. Oh my god. Not here.


    I closed my eyes and felt my sex clench in response, wanting him, goose flesh spreading, nipples hardening as his mouth traveled up and up.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s have a round of applause for our lucky lady and gentleman,¡± the DJ interrupted. The crowd grumbled, but the DJ kept talking. ¡°Let¡¯s have everyone in a circle for the hokey pokey!¡±


    I looked down at Dale as kids flooded the stage, dragging their inebriated parents along. Bridesmaids grabbed their husbands or their groomsman. The floor started filling up around us.


    ¡°Mine.¡± Dale whispered, grabbing my hands and kissing the top of each one before standing and pulling me with him.


    ¡°Do you want to do the hokey pokey?¡± I put my arms around his neck, standing on one foot¡ªthe one that still had a shoe. The other was still on the floor.


    ¡°Is it anything like hanky panky?¡± He grinned, drawing me closer. ¡°If it is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Come with me.¡± A low voice behind us made me startle in Dale¡¯s arms. I turned to look, seeing a tall, bearded man who was built like a brick wall, even in a tux.


    ¡°Russell, what¡¯s up?¡± Dale held me even tighter as I turned in his arms to face the giant. I¡¯d never seen him before. ¡°Sara, this is one of my¡­ I guess, bodyguard is the best word. Russell, this is Sara.¡±


    ¡°Introductions later.¡± The big guy took a step toward us, grabbing Dale¡¯s arm. ¡°We¡¯ve got to go.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Dale asked again, his brow furrowed. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°We were just leaving anyway,¡± I said. ¡°Just let me get my purse and my other shoe and I have to say my goodbyes¡ª¡±


    That¡¯s when I heard it from across the room.


    ¡°There he is! That¡¯s Dale Diamond!¡±


    I felt Dale¡¯s muscles tense instantly and before I knew what was happening, the bodyguard, Russell, pushed us in the opposite direction. I tried to protest¡ªmy purse, my other damned shoe!¡ªas I hobbled along wearing just one heel. I couldn¡¯t keep up this way. I glanced behind us, seeing a crowd of people¡ªall girls as far as I could tell, none of them dressed for a wedding. They were coming after us all right. Running after us, more like it. The girl out in front looked familiar and I even hesitated for a moment, trying to remember where I¡¯d seen her.


    That¡¯s when Dale grabbed me, twisting his body down and sideways for a moment so he could pick me up in a fireman¡¯s carry. Then I was draped over his shoulders as Russell and Dale ran across the dance floor, breaking the hokey-pokey line where they were just putting their left foot in.


    ¡°To the left!¡± Russell insisted, guiding Dale. ¡°Emergency door. I can take her if you want.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Dale turned and hit the door with his hip. I read the red letters upside down¡ªEMERGENCY EXIT ONLY ALARM WILL SOUND. And they weren¡¯t kidding. It drowned out everything, the music, even the girls screaming and chasing after them. It blared out in bursts, so we heard waves of sound.


    You put your¡ª


    BEEP


    And shake it all about.¡ª


    BEEP


    ¡°Up the hill.¡± Russell hadn¡¯t even broken a sweat. He pushed Dale to move faster, but of course he had the extra weight of me on his shoulders. ¡°Limo¡¯s waiting.¡±


    Thank God.


    I took huge gulps of the night air. It was cool, but not cold. I gasped as Dale jostled me, almost losing his footing.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he gasped. ¡°Damned dress shoes. Slippery. Grass is wet.¡±


    It hadn¡¯t rained, but the hall was also a golf course and they had likely had the sprinklers running.


    ¡°I can walk,¡± I insisted. ¡°You don¡¯t have to carry me.¡±


    ¡°Left, left!¡± Russell guided him. I heard the crackle of a walkie talkie.


    ¡°Do you have the package?¡± came through on the radio.


    ¡°All tied up with a nice pretty bow,¡± Russell replied. I could see him far better than I could see Dale.


    ¡°Ever think you¡¯d be running from rabid fans?¡± He winked at me.


    ¡°I hope they don¡¯t bite.¡± I couldn¡¯t see them in the dark but I could hear them. Had they made it through the door before it was shut? The alarm wasn¡¯t sounding anymore.


    The radio crackled. ¡°The eagle¡¯s ready to fly.¡±


    ¡°Ten-four.¡± Russell said into the radio as they crested the hill.


    I strained to see as Dale mostly slid down the wet grass in his dress shoes, taking me with him. There was a limo in the parking lot, the back door open, driver waiting. He was holding a walkie talkie.


    ¡°In!¡± Russell insisted.


    Dale had to put me down, which he did. I wobbled¡ªstill wearing only one heel. He pressed me into the limo, climbing in behind.


    ¡°Thank you, Russell!¡± I called, leaning over to wave to him.


    ¡°All in a day¡¯s work.¡± He grinned, giving me a half-salute.


    ¡°I guess this means you¡¯re really famous,¡± I said, glancing at Dale.


    That¡¯s when I saw them coming down the hill we¡¯d just traversed. How many? Fifty? At least! I turned to Dale as Russell shut the door and the limo began to pull away.


    ¡°Poor Aimee!¡± I saw them through the tinted glass. They weren¡¯t stopping. In fact, the crowd picked up speed when they saw the limo leaving.


    I twisted in my seat to look out the back. Three girls were out front, calling after them, the rest bringing up the rear. One of the three looked familiar.


    ¡°I think I know her.¡± I frowned. ¡°I think she was one of Aimee¡¯s friends from high school. Laura? Something. Oh, Lisa! She was there when you played that show at the mall. Do you remember?¡±


    ¡°When I pulled you on stage?¡± He pulled me into his lap and I straddled him, my dress riding up.


    ¡°Mmm yes.¡± I traced his full, pouty lips with my finger.


    ¡°And almost¡­ kissed¡­ you¡­¡± With each word he brushed his lips near mine.


    ¡°Almost!¡± I groaned. ¡°You were such a damned tease. So mean. Making me wait and wait¡­¡±


    ¡°Was it worth it?¡± His lips almost, almost touching mine.


    ¡°Beyond,¡± I whispered.


    Then he kissed me, his mouth slowly slanting, teasing mine open for him. I surrendered completely in his arms, his kiss the only thing in the universe that mattered, now and forever. His lips were so soft and full, his tongue deliciously thrilling, sliding along my teeth, playing with my tongue.


    His hands moved down my waist, my hips, following the lines and curves of my body. He caressed the outside of my thighs, my calves, still encased in nylon.


    He blinked at me when we stopped for breath and asked, ¡°Hey, where¡¯s your other shoe?¡±


    ¡°I told you! It¡¯s still on the dance floor! And my purse!¡± I cried.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have the driver call the hall,¡± Dale shook his head, smiling. ¡°They¡¯ll keep them for us.¡±


    ¡°Aimee will probably hold onto them. If she¡¯s still talking to me after this,¡± I added, sliding off his lap onto the seat beside him. He didn¡¯t want to let me go too far and pulled my legs over his as I stretched out on the bench seat.


    ¡°Well, at least we gave them a good show,¡± Dale said, sliding his hand up to locate the garter.


    ¡°You always give them a good show,¡± I said proudly. Then I sat up, remembering, exclaiming, ¡°Your dad!¡±


    ¡°He knows.¡±


    ¡°Knows what?¡±


    ¡°Where I¡¯m taking you tonight.¡± Dale smiled.


    ¡°You¡¯re taking me somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Mm hm.¡±


    ¡°Where?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Somewhere special.¡±


    ¡°You know I have to work in the morning,¡± I reminded him.


    ¡°You can call in.¡± Dale shrugged one shoulder, still playing with the garter on my thigh.


    ¡°Josh is counting on me. We have a really big order of¡ª¡±


    Now his fingers were moving higher than the garter, seeking the heat between my thighs. He rubbed me gently, his smile never wavering, his eyes locked with mine.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I swallowed and moaned softly when he rubbed me just a little bit faster. ¡°Mmm¡­maybe I can go in late.¡±

 Page 6

    He reached for me, and I went to him, arms around his neck as he kissed me back onto the seat, stretching out next to me, his thigh between mine. We kissed like we hadn¡¯t seen each other in years, desperate, longing kisses that did nothing to really put out the fire. In fact, it just added more fuel.


    ¡°I missed you so much, Sara,¡± he murmured against my neck. ¡°When I¡¯m away from you it¡¯s like I can¡¯t take a full breath. It¡¯s like I¡¯m drowning and you¡¯re my life raft.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re so sweet.¡± I cradled his head in my hand as he kissed his way down my cleavage. ¡°There¡¯s a song in there somewhere¡­¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°You know me too well.¡±


    ¡°You missed me?¡± I asked. ¡°You thought about me every day?¡±


    ¡°Every minute¡­¡± He assured me with kisses all over the tops of my breasts. ¡°Every second.¡±


    His hands were working my skirt up, up. He glanced down at his handiwork with a deep sigh.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got sexy damned legs.¡±


    ¡°Do I?¡± I looked down, pulling my dress up even higher to look.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Do what?¡± I pulled my skirt up almost to my hips.


    ¡°Sara¡­¡± There was a warning in his voice, in his eyes


    ¡°Can he see us?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I grabbed his hand and slid it under the elastic of my pantyhose. He curled his fingers around my sex, his palm over my pubic bone, rocking gently.


    ¡°Tease,¡± he groaned as his fingers slid through the slippery seam of my sex.


    ¡°Me?¡± I gasped, shifting my hips. ¡°Oh that¡¯s so good¡­¡±


    I kissed him, sliding my tongue along his lips, desperate for him.


    ¡°Is it going to be a long ride?¡± I asked.


    Dale sighed. ¡°Not long enough.¡±


    ¡°Then I guess this is the best we can do for now,¡± I whispered, rubbing the heel of my hand through the thin material of his trousers, feeling him, hard and wanting me.


    ¡°For now.¡± He groaned, his hips rocking with my motion. ¡°Oh God, this is torture.¡±


    It was¡ªthe very best kind of torture. We continued to tease and torture each other to the brink of insanity, igniting that pure, animal lust that took over our bodies and minds whenever we were together.


    Then the limo pulled up to our destination and I sat up and straightened my dress, my hair, and prayed that wherever we were, it had a nice, soft bed and plenty of water.


    Because we were going to need them.


    CHAPTER FOUR


    When the driver opened the door to the limo, Dale got out first, holding his hand out for me. I took it, my remaining shoe in my hand as I walked barefoot¡ªwell, almost, I was wearing nylons¡ªinto the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria hotel.


    ¡°Dale, you didn¡¯t.¡± But of course, he had.


    I had a rush of d¨¦j¨¤-vu as we stood at the counter, checking in. We had just been talking about first times in the limo, and here we were at the Waldorf Astoria, the place he had brought me two years ago. It had been the first night we¡¯d ever spent together. Dale was recreating it, from the limo ride to the hotel.


    ¡°Same room?¡± I asked, watching Dale sign the paper the desk clerk put in front of him.


    Dale just smiled and that little dimple his cheek appeared, making him look even more mischievous. He slid the paper over to the desk clerk, an older man, tall with almost white-blond hair he slicked back. He wore round wire-rimmed glasses and he peered over them at me.


    ¡°It¡¯s not Halloween,¡± the desk clerk remarked.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I cocked my head at him, questioning.


    ¡°I assume you¡¯re Cinderella?¡± He pointed to the shoe in my hand.


    ¡°Oh no, I¡¯ve already found my Prince Charming.¡± I laughed and hooked my arm through Dale¡¯s.


    ¡°I assume everything¡¯s ready?¡± Dale inquired, slipping his wallet into his suit jacket pocket and glancing at the desk clerk.


    ¡°Everything you asked for, Mr. Diamond. Have a glorious stay.¡±


    ¡°Oh we will,¡± I agreed as Dale led me toward the elevators.


    Before I¡¯d met Dale, my only experience of a hotel had actually been an old Howard Johnson¡¯s down in Florida. The owners had converted and re-named it The Lookout Motel, although I hadn¡¯t found the scenery¡ªa set of railroad tracks complete with a train that went by at 4 a.m. next to a self-serve storage facility¡ªmuch to look out at. I thought maybe they had meant something else, like ¡°Lookout for cockroaches!¡± and, in the case of the shower, ¡°Lookout for inconsistent water temperature!¡±


    That had been before, when my mother was alive. It was the only family trip I remembered taking and, as usual, it had been spoiled by the stepbeast and his incessant drinking. They drove down from New Jersey to visit my mother¡¯s family, although there weren¡¯t many left. Her mother had been an only child, her father had just one brother, and my grandparents were both dead before I turned five. It was a cousin¡¯s wedding, which I found boring at the age of thirteen, but I was unbelievably excited at the prospect of visiting Disney World. The stepbeast had promised we could go.


    Of course, he broke that promise. The night after the wedding I went to bed nearly vibrating with excitement. The next day was Disney World! When my eyes finally closed, my body having reached its peak of exhaustion, I didn¡¯t remember anything until early the next morning when I woke and found myself face to face with a mouse. It was sitting there cleaning itself right in front of my face.


    Of course, I screamed. My hand jerked involuntarily, moving to shoo it away, and only succeeded in flattening it between my hand and the wall. The panicked mouse bit my thumb and tore off running along the side of the cot to the edge and then dropped down onto the television stand, disappearing behind the box.


    My scream woke my mother and the stepbeast, who was very sluggish and hung-over and yelled obscenities as he tore the room apart looking for the elusive mouse. When he couldn¡¯t find it, he called me a fucking liar and said my punishment for lying¡ªhe accused me of getting them up early so we could go to Disney World sooner¡ªwas a trip back home. Right then. He made my mother pack while he took a shower and then made us both load the car while he checked out of The Lookout Motel.


    We drove away just as the sun was coming up over the horizon. I remembered my mother saying, ¡°Pete, she could get rabies. I saw the bite on her hand.¡± The stepbeast had grunted and replied, ¡°If she gets rabies, we¡¯ll put her down. Dumb woman¡ªthere was no fucking mouse.¡± I cried silently in the back seat, letting the tears fall onto my jumper, forehead pressed to the window. I didn¡¯t get rabies but I did get a nasty infection. And I never got to go to Disney World. That was the last Florida mouse I ever saw¡ªand it definitely hadn¡¯t been Mickey.


    The Waldorf Astoria wasn¡¯t just a step up from The Lookout Motel¡ªit was more like a giant leap. Dale had begged and borrowed¡ªalthough he probably hadn¡¯t stolen anything¡ªto get the room for us the first time. Tonight, he just pulled out his credit card and paid. We¡¯d both come a long, long way since then.


    ¡°Penny for your thoughts?¡± Dale nuzzled my neck as we stood waiting at the elevators.


    ¡°You¡¯d need more than that.¡± I half-smiled as the elevator opened. It was empty and we stepped inside.


    ¡°Inflation?¡± Dale smirked, pushing the button. It was forty-seven floors to the top.


    ¡°Deep well.¡± I put my arms around his neck. ¡°You are the most amazing man in the whole world and I love you with all my heart, Dale Diamond.¡±


    ¡°Quit trying to get out of it.¡± He grinned and put his arms around my waist, pulling me close and nuzzling my curls. ¡°What were you so lost in thought about?¡±


    I sighed and told him, knowing he wouldn¡¯t give up until I did. By the time I was finished, the elevator doors were opening.


    ¡°That bastard,¡± Dale breathed, his arms tightening protectively around me. ¡°I hope he rots in jail for the rest of his life.¡±


    ¡°They reduced the sentence to aggravated assault, remember?¡± I reminded him with a little shiver. The thought of the stepbeast getting out of jail, after what he¡¯d done, haunted me, mostly at night when Dale was asleep¡ªor worse, out on the road. ¡°Just five years.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to remind me.¡± He lifted my chin, searching my eyes. ¡°But by then we¡¯ll be long gone, living in L.A. behind a fortress with an army of security guards. You¡¯ll be as guarded as the Queen of England.¡±


    ¡°If Russell was any indication of the kind of security we¡¯re going to have¡­¡± I joked. I didn¡¯t like to think about the stepbeast and his inevitable release.


    ¡°Hey, he got us out of there, didn¡¯t he?¡± Dale put his foot out to keep the elevator door from closing. He pulled me with him into the hallway, taking out the key card and opening the door. Dale flipped on a light and the room came to life. It was like Dorothy stepping into the Land of Oz for the first time. Except we¡¯d been in this room before.


    ¡°Strawberries and roses and champagne.¡± I smiled., looking at the table where the goodies were all laid out. ¡°You remembered.¡±


    ¡°Of course I remembered.¡± Dale took of his suit coat, loosening his tie. ¡°I may forget appointments or my times tables¡ªMrs. Dunwitty would be ashamed of me¡ªand sometimes I even forget my own song lyrics. But I don¡¯t forget you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re pretty unforgettable yourself, you know.¡± I put my satin pink high heel, dyed to match my dress, on the table with the flowers and champagne. I eyed the strawberries, remembering we¡¯d left before I could even taste the wedding cake.


    ¡°I know.¡± He grinned, untying his dress shoes and sliding them off. Now he looked a little more like the Dale I knew, in black slacks and a white button-down shirt. The pink cummerbund was gone. I couldn¡¯t remember where it was. The rental place was going to charge him for it¡ªnot that it mattered.


    ¡°It was a really beautiful wedding.¡± I sat in one of the chairs, picking up a strawberry and licking at the hardened chocolate.


    ¡°It was all right I guess.¡± He popped the top on the champagne and turned over the champagne flutes. ¡°Ours will be better.¡±


    ¡°Ours?¡± I raised my eyebrows in surprise.


    He knew I wanted to marry him¡ªand he¡¯d proposed to me, so the feeling was mutual. But everyone from his manager to his publicist to his hairdresser said we shouldn¡¯t. Not yet. Greg, his manager, had been the most adamant, of course, followed by Jan, his publicist. They insisted on keeping me a secret. Dale¡¯s band, Black Diamond, was going to make them a hell of a lot of money, and since Dale Diamond himself pretty much was the band, the other members utterly forgettable, they focused solely on their money maker.


    And they didn¡¯t want their money maker romantically attached. Because that didn¡¯t make them money. What made them money was a very sexy, very single rock and roll star who exuded so much sexual energy on stage girls passed out from screaming his name. Some of the reporters on shows like Entertainment Tonight said they hadn¡¯t seen anything like it since Elvis¡ªthen they¡¯d show clips of Elvis and girls screaming and falling over. Followed by clips of Dale and girls screaming and falling over.

 Page 7

    So we¡¯d stayed engaged and postponed the actual marriage. I told him I could wait forever for him, which was true. He said he didn¡¯t want to wait but he left it up to me. And here we were, waiting.


    Besides, it would have been impossible to plan a wedding. At first, I was studying at New York Studio School and Dale and Black Diamond were recording their first album. Even after I¡¯d graduated from the Studio School¡¯s one-year program and got a job, I didn¡¯t make a lot of money¡ªthankfully John was so sweet and generous, he said we could live there forever, although I still liked to contribute¡ªand Dale was now preparing with Black Diamond to go out on their first road tour as the opening act for Dark Wing. I knew we¡¯d get married eventually. I just didn¡¯t know when.


    Dale handed me a champagne flute and I sipped it, the bubbles tickling my nose as I looked around the room. A glorious stay, indeed. There was a living area with a couch and television, all of it richly furnished. There was a small kitchenette too. To the right there was a bedroom with a huge mahogany canopy bed, if I remembered correctly.


    ¡°A girl could get used to this.¡± I smiled at him over my glass.


    ¡°I hope so.¡± He put down his glass, holding his hand out to me. I gave it to him and he pulled me to standing, gathering me in his arms. ¡°I want to spoil you. I want to give you everything you¡¯ve ever wanted in your whole life. I want to give you so much, you won¡¯t even be able to answer when someone asks you what you want because you¡¯ll already have it all.¡±


    ¡°Oh Dale.¡± I lifted my face to meet his eyes, feeling tears stinging mine and I blinked them back. ¡°I already have everything I want. Everything I could ever want. I have you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re my best thing too,¡± he breathed, leaning down to kiss me. It was like putting the key in and starting the engine to a soft purring muscle car. I felt a low rumble and that sweet anticipation before the car moves into gear. That gentle hum of just beginning, before the race even started, was the sweetest moment in the world.


    ¡°Take me to bed,¡± I murmured.


    ¡°Hang on.¡± Dale grabbed me around the waist, lifting me, and I clasped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, as he carried me into the other room. I glanced at the bed in the dimness, expecting him to put me on it, but instead he paused just inside the door, reaching for the light switch.


    The giant king-sized mahogany bed had a beautifully draped, cream colored canopy. The coverlet matched, a shiny satin or silk covering soft down. Dale let me slowly down and I squinted at the bed, not quite sure of what I was seeing. There was something on the bed, all over the bed¡ªand it was red. My first crazy thought was blood! But no. That was silly, Of course it was rose petals. Red rose petals all over the bed.


    I glanced at Dale, smiling, bemused.


    ¡°Go look.¡±


    I took a step closer, then another, realizing they weren¡¯t rose petals after all.


    ¡°There¡¯s a stool at the side of the bed,¡± he said from the doorway.


    I looked back at him leaning against it, my heart skipping at the delicious sight, shirt now unbuttoned and untucked, dress pants drawn low with his hands in his pockets, his belt, that studded belt, so damned sexy.


    ¡°Stand on it and look down.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I wrinkled my nose, confused, but I did what he asked, getting up onto the wooden stool and looking down at what I had first thought might be blood or rose petals, but were neither.


    They were Skittles. Just the red ones. And they spelled out:


    Sara Will You Marry Me?


    I couldn¡¯t hold back the tears then, remembering the first time I met Dale, when he¡¯d sauntered into my chemistry class, larger than life. He could have sat anywhere, but he¡¯d picked me. I was so embarrassed when my stomach started to growl in front of the cute new guy. I wanted to disappear. But he heard it¡ªI think the whole class heard it¡ªand instead of making fun of me, he¡¯d offered me some of his Skittles.


    Looking down at the bed, I could see him in my memory, that dark mop of hair that always fell over one eye, wearing all black, including his combat boots, and that sexy, studded belt. Had I fallen instantly in love? Maybe I had, but if I had, it sure took me long enough to realize it. But I think Dale knew then. I don¡¯t know how it could be possible, but when he picked me to sit with that day, he really picked me.


    ¡°Do you remember?¡± Dale¡¯s voice, closer.


    I nodded, not trusting my voice, not turning around. How could I forget? We¡¯d gotten in so much trouble that day for writing back and forth on Mr. Woodall¡¯s desk. He made us stay and clean them. It was all Dale¡¯s fault and he knew it. We didn¡¯t have much time left in class when Mr. Woodall caught us, but in that brief time, Dale had reached into his Skittles bag, lining up all the red ones and then making a peace offering.


    A red heart made out of Skittles.


    ¡°Sara?¡±


    I sniffed, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hands, seeing them smeared with mascara, ready to tell him, of course I didn¡¯t forget, how could I possibly forget? Every minute I¡¯d ever spent with or even without him since the day he walked into my life had been about him. I lived and breathed Dale Diamond and would until the day I died.


    I stepped off the stool and turned around to find him down on one knee holding a little blue box.


    ¡°Oh my God.¡± I really thought I might faint. I met his eyes, confused. ¡°But¡­ you already¡­¡±


    I looked down at my left hand where I wore the ring he¡¯d given me the day Black Diamond won MTV¡¯s Battle of the Bands. He¡¯d proposed on one knee, in front of a stadium full of people, giving me this engagement ring. But at the time, Dale didn¡¯t have much money. He¡¯d begged and borrowed to pay for our first night at the Waldorf Astoria, but I didn¡¯t want to ask what he¡¯d had to do to buy my engagement ring. It was a small solitaire¡ªjust a quarter carat¡ªbut I loved it because it was from Dale.


    ¡°I wanted you to have something real.¡± He held up the blue box and it dawned on me where it was from. I had overheard Aimee and some of her friends¡ªthe popular kids, the ones whose parents had a lot of money¡ªtalking once about married girls who would only give their husbands blowjobs as a trade-off for ¡°blue box¡± jewelry.


    The blue box was from Tiffany¡¯s.


    I put my palms to my cheeks to cool them as he opened the box, letting me see what was inside. The ring on my finger was nothing compared to the one Dale held. The diamond was huge. I blinked at him in shock, unable to even breathe, let alone speak.


    ¡°Will you?¡± he asked, looking up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. He was really asking. Like he thought it was a real question, as if I could have any other answer but¡­


    ¡°Yes!¡± I cried, laughing through my tears, holding my arms out to him. He had me in them in one motion, hugging me close. ¡°Did you really think I would say no?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He breathed me in, his chest expanding against my cheek. ¡°It¡¯s been a rough two years. I was gone so much and you¡­¡±


    He pulled back, cocking his head and looking into my eyes.


    ¡°I was afraid you might not want to marry a rock star after all.¡± His smile was small, tight. ¡°I thought maybe you¡¯d decided the fantasy was better than reality.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I touched his lips with my fingertips, hushing his words. ¡°Never. What in the world made you think that? You are my fantasy and my reality. I don¡¯t want anyone or anything but you. You don¡¯t need to give me everything. You are my everything.¡±


    ¡°So you want me to return the ring?¡± He smirked, moving to put it in his pocket.


    ¡°No!¡± I laughed, reaching for the box. ¡°Let¡¯s not throw the baby out with the bathwater.¡±


    ¡°Give me your hand.¡± Dale held the box up, taking the ring out with his other hand.


    I looked down at the engagement ring I¡¯d been wearing for two years. It seemed as if I¡¯d been waiting forever for my life to really start. First it was finally graduating high school. Then Aimee was planning a wedding and I was at the New York Studio School and Dale had marching orders from his new record company¡ªhe had to go whenever and wherever they said. I hated it¡ªbut I knew, he hated it even more. Dale wasn¡¯t used to being bossed around.


    And all the while, he had to keep me a secret.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost ours.¡± Dale kissed my finger, pressing his lips to the first ring he¡¯d given me. ¡°If we can hold on just a little longer, it will all be ours.¡±


    ¡°What will be ours?¡± I watched as he slid that ring off, slowly sliding the other one on.


    ¡°Everything.¡± Then he kissed that ring too. It was surprisingly heavy.


    ¡°I told you, I don¡¯t want everything.¡± I held my hand out for the other ring and he gave it to me. I slipped it onto the ring finger of my right hand. ¡°I just want you.¡±


    ¡°Here?¡± He grinned, standing up and tossing the now empty Tiffany ring box aside, a wide grin spreading over his face. ¡°Now?¡±


    ¡°Dale!¡± I warned, taking a step back, but I was too late. He pounced, pinning me to the bed. The weight of our bodies made the down under the coverlet rise up and Skittles flew everywhere. I heard them plinking on the night table beside us, saw some fly past the lamp, and felt more of them under my back.


    ¡°The Skittles!¡± I lamented.¡±You forgot about the Skittles.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t forget.¡± Dale grinned. ¡°Some day I¡¯ll be on tour and I¡¯ll send a list to the hotel of all the things I want. Skittles will be on the list¡ªbut just the red ones.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d make some poor lackey separate out the red ones for you?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what rock stars are supposed to do.¡± He picked up one of the Skittles on the mattress, popping it into his mouth and chewing. He pressed one to my lips and I accepted it, chewing thoughtfully.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna regret this when you¡¯re on your way to the bathroom and you step on a bunch of Skittles.¡± I stuck my tongue out at him.


    ¡°I regret nothing.¡± He leaned over and kissed me softly. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get you out of this dress. Roll over.¡±


    I laughed but complied, rolling over onto my belly. There were Skittles right there in front of me so I licked a few of them, letting them stick to my tongue so I could draw them into my mouth while Dale unzipped me. He pulled the fabric off my shoulders as I wiggled my way out of the satin like a very unsexy inchworm.


    ¡°Okay, now these things.¡± Dale frowned, plucking at the stretchy nylon of my pantyhose. ¡°Weird. They¡¯re like something out of a science fiction movie, I swear.¡±


    I giggled. ¡°They¡¯re ruined anyway. Look at the feet.¡±


    ¡°What were you doing, walking on hot coals?¡± he exclaimed.


    ¡°Running from rabid fans, remember?¡± I reached down, hooking a finger in one of the gaping holes and pulling. The material ripped and Dale¡¯s eyes lit up.


    ¡°My turn.¡± He grabbed the nylon in two hands and pulled. It ripped all the way up to my inner thigh. ¡°Wow! Nice!¡±

 Page 8

    Then he did the other leg, so they were completely wrecked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why, but that¡¯s sexy.¡± He ran his hands up my bare legs. The sensation of his soft palms and his rough fingers¡ªcalloused from years of playing guitar¡ªcaressing me sent sweet waves of pleasure through me. Dale touched me like he was playing music, listening to notes only he could hear as he kneaded my flesh in his hands. I bit my lip and whimpered, wiggling on the bed.


    ¡°What am I going to wear tomorrow?¡± I wondered as Dale rolled the elastic top of the pantyhose down, stripping me of them completely. Now I was in just panties and my bra.


    ¡°I¡¯ll buy you something.¡± He kissed one knee, then the other. ¡°I missed your knees.¡±


    ¡°My knees?¡±


    ¡°Both of them.¡± He flicked his tongue around my kneecap and down to the bend in my leg, making me moan. ¡°See? You love that. I love that you love that.¡±


    ¡°I love that you know I love that.¡± I ran a hand through his hair, soft as raven¡¯s wings.


    ¡°I love that I know that you¡­ wait¡­¡±


    I laughed, reaching for him. ¡°Shut up and kiss me.¡±


    And that¡¯s how the night really began.


    CHAPTER FIVE


    I was sore when I got up to go to the bathroom. The clock on the nightstand said it was two in the morning as I made my way back to the bed. Dale was sleeping, completely nude, one leg off the edge of the bed, his foot dangling, the other knee cocked. The sheet was tangled at his waist, just across his hips. The comforter was somewhere¡­ oh yeah, we¡¯d taken it into the kitchen because having sex on the tile was too cold and far too hard.


    But now I was cold. I went to the kitchen, seeing the remnants of the minibar on the counter. I think I was still a little drunk. My head was swimmy. I grabbed the comforter off the floor, putting it over my shoulders and wrapping it around me. I opened the little fridge and picked out one of the chocolate covered strawberries, eating it as I wandered into the living area.


    I was tired but I couldn¡¯t sleep. Having Dale home again made my mind race almost as fast as my body. I missed him when he was gone, but I missed him almost as much when he was home. His focus was so often elsewhere these days. His rock star dream was really coming true. The album had been released¡ªwith my cover art, I was so proud of that¡ªand the first single too. But he was right, he never really forgot me. Even when he was up on stage, singing to thousands, he was singing my song, thinking about me.


    ¡°Why¡¯d you come out here?¡± Dale came out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. He¡¯d put on a pair of boxers.


    ¡°Had to pee. Can¡¯t get back to sleep.¡± I held an arm out, holding the comforter open and his eyes lit up when he saw I wasn¡¯t wearing anything. He snuggled up, grabbing the remote from the coffee table.


    ¡°Wonder if there¡¯s anything good on.¡± He started flipping through channels while I played with his hair¡ªwhat was left of it. It was so soft. I loved how it felt under my fingertips at the back of his neck.


    ¡°Mmm.¡± He shivered. ¡°I like that.¡±


    ¡°This?¡± I lightly traced my nails there and he shivered again. Then I spelled out the words, ¡°I love you.¡±


    ¡°Hey, look, it¡¯s porn.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I blinked at the television, trying to focus. The picture was all scrambled but I could almost make out a hint of skin.


    ¡°Want to watch porn?¡± He grinned, pushing buttons on the remote.


    ¡°Won¡¯t that show up on the bill?¡± I gaped at him as the loud sounds of people having sex filled the room.


    ¡°The record company¡¯s paying, remember.¡± He cocked his head, looking at the screen. ¡°And they kind if expect it.¡±


    ¡°They expect you to watch porn?¡±I looked at the screen and saw a blonde with very large, very fake breasts doing a little striptease.


    ¡°They¡¯d pay for escorts too, if I wanted them,¡± he replied casually, his hand stroking my thigh.


    ¡°So this is porn.¡± I watched as the blonde spread her legs for the camera, spreading her labia with nails so long they were more like garden tools.


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding me?¡± Dale sat up. ¡°You¡¯ve never seen porn?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡± My eyes widened when the blonde started putting her fingers inside. ¡°Not movies anyway¡­ she¡¯s going to hurt herself!¡±


    Dale looked and laughed. ¡°That¡¯s what I always thought too. Those fake tits and the bleach blond hair and those nails. Ugh.¡¯


    He grabbed the remote and changed the channel.


    ¡°There¡¯s more?¡± Now there were two women kissing, touching each other.


    ¡°Mmm. Nice.¡± Dale perked up and I saw his cock tenting his boxers.


    ¡°You like that?¡± My fingernails traced the hairline at the nape of his neck. ¡°What if I told you Aimee and I did that?¡±


    He turned to look at me, mouth hanging open.


    ¡°I¡¯m kidding.¡± I giggled. ¡°No way. Gross. Never happened.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think so.¡± He scoffed, making a face and looking back at the girls. ¡°But for a minute there, you got me thinking about it¡­¡±


    I watched the dark-haired girl spread her legs for the blonde. At least these two women were far more real. Their breasts didn¡¯t defy gravity and their nails weren¡¯t registered as deadly weapons. The blonde kissed her way down the brunette¡¯s smooth, taut belly. I ran my hands down my own, stopping at my scar.


    ¡°Am I ugly?¡± I asked, getting Dale¡¯s attention. His hand had wandered under his boxers and his attention had clearly been carried away by the image on the screen.


    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± he exclaimed, his gaze roaming over my body. I was uncovered, my thighs slightly open, leaning back on the couch.


    ¡°My scars, I mean.¡± I winced, running my fingers over the raised spots. They were hard, knotted.


    ¡°No baby.¡± He leaned over and kissed my fingers, my scar too. I wouldn¡¯t let him see me naked for months afterward. Sex always had to be with the lights off. ¡°You¡¯re beautiful. You¡¯re so beautiful you make my heart ache from the inside out. And the best part about you is you¡¯re real.¡±


    He glanced back at the screen, making a dismissive noise in his throat.


    ¡°That¡¯s fun, sometimes, but it¡¯s fake. You¡¯re real. You¡¯re you.¡±


    ¡°But you like that.¡± I nodded toward the screen.


    ¡°I like watching, sure. I don¡¯t know any guy who doesn¡¯t. Any straight guy,¡± he added. Then grinned. ¡°And gay guys just watch gay porn.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s gay porn?¡±


    He laughed, grabbing the remote, pushing the button.


    ¡°No!¡± I protested. ¡°I don¡¯t want¡­ oh. Wait.¡±


    Now the image was of a couple. They were kissing, fondling each other, getting undressed. I watched her unzip him, his cock springing free. I loved that feeling, when Dale¡¯s cock practically escaped out of his jeans into my hand.


    ¡°You like that?¡± Dale cocked his head, smiling.


    My sex clenched. God I was so sore from him inside of me. I couldn¡¯t count how many ways or times we¡¯d had sex. The kitchen, the bathroom, the bed¡ªoh god, those damned Skittles¡ªand then the kitchen again, this time with me on the counter¡­


    But my body responded when I watched the girl on the screen kneel and take his cock into her mouth. I could almost taste him. I licked my lips.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked as Dale slid down between my thighs, parting them with his palms.


    ¡°Just watch.¡±


    I did. Wow, I was learning a lot. I loved taking him in my mouth like that because of the way he responded. He loved being in my mouth, my hand, watching me lick the tip.


    ¡°Ooohhh yesss,¡± I moaned as Dale¡¯s tongue slid up and down between my cleft. My nipples, already hard from being exposed to the air, grew even harder, the skin around them puckering.


    The sound of sex filled the room. Now the man had the woman on the bed and he was licking her, just like Dale was licking me. Except she was completely bare down there except for a strip of dark hair at the time.


    ¡°Would you like that,¡± I murmured, my hand in his hair. ¡°Would you like me to shave all my hair down there for you.¡±


    He moaned against my flesh, lapping faster, pressing his tongue against the sensitive bit of flesh right up top. He knew just what I liked, the way to flick it with his tongue, tease it round and round, then toggle it back and forth like turning a light switch on and off at lightning speed.


    The couple on the screen were fucking. He was inside her from behind, her breasts swaying. The camera got up close and personal, showing the slick shaft of his cock moving in and out.


    I glanced down and saw Dale had slid his boxers down his hips. He fisted his cock, the head red and leaking pre-cum. I whimpered at the sight of it, wanting him.


    ¡°Mine,¡± I whispered, reaching for him, falling far short, my hand opening and closing on the air. ¡°I want you in my mouth.¡±


    Dale grabbed my hips, pulling me up, and I sighed when his mouth moved from my sex. But he moved quickly, reclining on the couch and settling my pelvis over his face. I nuzzled his crotch, taking his cock in my hand. It was thick and hard and, I noted with a strange sort of pride, bigger than the guy on screen.


    Dale moaned when I took him between my lips. His pre-cum was peppery and I swallowed, using my tongue and bathing him with saliva. The sweet press of his tongue between my legs was taking me to climax like a freight train at full speed. I wasn¡¯t going to be able to stop it. I stroked him in my hand, moaning and rolling my hips, my eyes half closed as I watched the man on the screen. He pulled out of the woman and pumped his cock, once, twice, and then he was exploding, giving out a loud yell as climaxed.


    ¡°Oh!¡± I cried out, surprised by the sudden force of my orgasm. My hips bucked involuntarily and my hand grasped Dale¡¯s cock so hard the head was almost purple. Dale didn¡¯t stop, using his tongue to tease every last quiver and shudder from my body.


    ¡°Oh wow.¡± I shivered on top of him. ¡°That was¡­ wow¡­¡±


    Dale slid out from under me and I collapsed onto the couch, still trying to catch my breat. He stood looking down at me, his eyes so full of lust it was almost scary. He licked his lips, then his fingers, tasting me still.


    ¡°I want you.¡± His voice was hoarse.


    ¡°How?¡± I smiled up at him, so sated and sleepy now.


    He grabbed the comforter, folding and folding it, tossing it onto the wood coffee table.


    ¡°There.¡± He pointed. ¡°On your hands and knees.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh.¡± I got up, climbing slowly and carefully onto the coffee table, afraid it might not hold my weight, but it did.


    ¡°Hang on.¡± Dale grabbed my hips and I gasped, looking for something to hold on to! I gripped the edges of the coffee table with my fingers, feeling his cock sliding up and down, teasing. It was the perfect height and with one, swift motion he was inside me. I cried out, biting my lip. I was sore, but oh, it hurt so good.


    He went slow at first, easing himself out only half way before sliding back in. There was another couple on the screen, doing exactly what we were doing, a mirror image. Dale gripped my hips and thrust himself in deeper, using longer strokes, really driving into me now.

 Page 9

    ¡°Dale!¡± I cried, gasping for breath. ¡°Oh God. Oh!¡±


    The way he did that, using all his force to take me, made me tremble all over. His thighs spread mine and the sounds of our sex mingled with the sounds coming from the television, moaning and slapping, the hot, aching sound of fucking.


    ¡°Sara,¡± he panted. ¡°Oh sweetheart, I¡¯m¡­ Ohhhhh nowww!¡±


    I cried out when he came. I wasn¡¯t going to climax again, not this time, but the force of his orgasm shuddered through me as he thrust, thrust, thrust, hard, fast strokes, emptying himself into me with a force that threatened to tear me apart. I whimpered when he slid out of me, glancing back at him over my shoulder.


    His eyes were glazed, his look dreamy. He grabbed the remote, turning off the sounds of sex, almost as if it was an affront to the senses now. He helped me off the coffee table, grabbing the comforter and wrapping us both in it.


    ¡°Think you can sleep now?¡± he murmured, kissing the tip of my nose.


    ¡°Like a baby.¡± I rested my cheek against his chest.


    ¡°Come on.¡±


    He scooped me up like it was nothing and carried me to bed. I listened to the sound of his breathing, both of us snuggled under the covers. His hand was on my breast, his thigh over mine, claiming me, even in his sleep. I closed my eyes and decided to count blessings instead of sheep, but as my eyelids grew heavier and heavier, I realized it just wasn¡¯t possible to count that high.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    I sat straight up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The first light of morning crept across the plush hotel carpet, not quite reaching the bed. Dale¡¯s side was empty.


    ¡°Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!¡± Dale¡¯s voice, growing louder.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I croaked. My throat was dry and I was incredibly thirsty. Either I was a little hungover from the lure of last night¡¯s open bar or I was dehydrated of all bodily fluids after our wild night of homecoming sex. Probably both.


    ¡°Look at this.¡± He burst into the bedroom wearing just his boxers, tossing something on the bed. I was far too interested in him standing there shirtless¡ªhow could I possibly be thinking about sex after the night before was beyond me, but I was¡ªto really pay attention. ¡°That goddamned wedding photographer sold pictures to the paper!¡±


    ¡°What paper?¡± I grabbed it, scanning the top. It wasn¡¯t the Times¡ªthey wouldn¡¯t have bothered with it. It was the New York Daily News, a complimentary copy slipped under the door by hotel staff for light breakfast reading. We weren¡¯t on the front page¡ªDale had it opened to the entertainment section, where they¡¯d printed a fuzzy photograph¡ªme pressed against the wall, my legs wrapped around his waist like a monkey, our mouths slanted in an open mouthed kiss.


    ¡°Fuck.¡± I swore, skimming the article. There were more photographs¡ªDale sliding the garter up my leg, my dress pulled up sky high, another of the two of us dancing together, bodies pressed close. The article named me and speculated that I was the girl Dale had proposed to during the Battle of the Bands.


    Dale¡¯s manager and pubicist had done everything they could to quell that incident, telling all the tabloids and teen mags we¡¯d broken it off. Reporters had never found out my name and the story had died off. Besides, whenever Dale jetted off to L.A. to do television spots or interviews, he always denied being involved. Whenever someone asked him about me, he said, ¡°It¡¯s over. I don¡¯t like to talk about it,¡± giving the world the impression he was a now-a single broken hearted rock star on the rebound¡ªwhich is just what his manager wanted everyone to think.


    I hated it. It was like a knife twisted in my gut every time I heard him say it. But Dale hated it even more. I remembered the first time his manager had broached the subject, me sitting between John and Dale, sipping wine at a restaurant so fancy they had bathroom attendants. Fancy shmancy, Dale didn¡¯t let that stop him. It was the manager¡¯s fault¡ªhe was like a dog with a bone, he just wouldn¡¯t let it go. He insisted I be kept a secret, hidden away.


    ¡°You can still see her, I don¡¯t care,¡± his manager had said. ¡°But we¡¯re telling the media you broke up. I can¡¯t sell a married young rock star to the buying public. It¡¯s not the image you¡¯re going to need to project.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care about my image,¡± Dale had scoffed.


    ¡°Then you¡¯re done before you even got started.¡± The manager had thrown his napkin on his plate, pushing away from the table. ¡°She goes or I go. And if I go, all your dreams of fame and fortune go with me. Bye-bye!¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Dale had squeezed my hand under the table. I remember the manager¡¯s knowing smile. He had clearly done this before. He was anticipated the outcome like a gambler counting cards in Vegas, calm and cool, arms crossed over his chest.


    He definitely hadn¡¯t expected Dale to get up and walk away from the table.


    Of course, after all the posturing and two more meetings with the manager¡ªhe brought Dale¡¯s publicist along to back him up¡ªDale had finally relented. But not before he asked me if I was okay with it, and I¡¯d lied through my teeth. It was the night before the last meeting and we were in bed. Dale tossed and turned and groaned into his pillow until finally, I just told him, ¡°It¡¯s okay. Let them play their little game. It¡¯s probably better the world doesn¡¯t know about me anyway. We don¡¯t want reporters hanging around outside.¡±


    I¡¯ll never forget what he said.


    ¡°Sara, I can¡¯t do it. I can¡¯t live that lie. I love you and I want everyone to know it. All I want to do is play guitar and love you. That¡¯s it. If I can¡¯t have both¡ªthen I choose you.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t be responsible for him not living his dream. I just couldn¡¯t. So I lied.


    ¡°You can have both. Just do what they say for now. Then when your first album goes platinum and you¡¯re selling out on tour, you¡¯ll have the leverage to say no.¡±


    He was thoughtful. ¡°I¡¯ll walk away from it all right now, Sara. I swear to God I will. All you need to do is say the word. You¡¯re more important to me than anything.¡±


    ¡°I know. You don¡¯t need to prove it to me,¡± I reminded him.¡°If our relationship isn¡¯t strong enough to withstand this, then I guess it just wasn¡¯t meant to be.¡±


    ¡°I love you, Sara. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll ever be able to tell you how much.¡±


    ¡°So show me.¡±


    And he had.


    I stared at the paper in my hand while Dale picked up the phone, remembering that first concession¡ªthe first of many. He got tired of fighting, after a while, and just starting giving in. At first he was adamant. He wasn¡¯t going to lie about me, so he said, ¡°I don¡¯t like to talk about it.¡± The manager and the publicist eventually wore him down and he started saying, ¡°We broke up, I don¡¯t like to talk about it.¡± Then it was his hair. He refused to cut it. They insisted. Arguments ensued. Finally, they won. By the time they got around to recording the album, I think they believed they¡¯d molded him into something soft and pliable they could bend, but they were wrong.


    On the album, Dale refused to compromise. All of the songs were his¡ªand he¡¯d even insisted that I do the cover art. He¡¯d conceded on everything else, even on me, but he wouldn¡¯t compromise his dream. I loved him for that, more than he would ever know.


    I put the paper face down on the bed. I didn¡¯t want to see the pictures, read the speculation.


    ¡°Greg wants to meet.¡±


    Greg was his manager.


    ¡°Now?¡±


    ¡°In two hours. At our house.¡±


    Our house was John¡¯s house. Dale would have to call and let him know.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, baby.¡± It was a big mess.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± He shrugged, looking at me still curled up in bed. ¡°Cheer up¡ªwe¡¯ve got time to order room service. And if we hurry, we can still soap each other up in the shower.¡±


    ¡°Why does the rest of the world seem to disappear when I¡¯m with you?¡± I asked, only half kidding.


    ¡°Because I am your world?¡± Oh that smirky smile, the one that brought out that sweet little dimple.


    ¡°That must be it.¡± I laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll call room service. You get in the shower.¡±


    CHAPTER SIX


    We arrived home wearing various designer clothes from the gift shop in the hotel lobby.


    They carried several designer lines, marked up of course, which meant they were so expensive none of them even had price tags. Their clientele obviously never asked and I didn¡¯t either¡ªI was too afraid. I just grabbed some Calvin Klein¡ªjeans and sweatshirts¡ªand took them back to our room so we could change. The salesman asked what room we were in as I went to hand over Dale¡¯s card, and then he waved it away and told me he would charge it to the room.


    I had lugged the new clothes upstairs, barefoot in my formal bridesmaid dress. After we changed, I was careful to fold Dale¡¯s tux before putting it back into the now empty bag and Dale had laughed at me.


    ¡°What? It¡¯s a rental, remember?¡± I had said, putting my dress in too, along with my one remaining shoe. I¡¯d also picked up two pairs of Nikes and two pairs of Ralph Lauren socks. I didn¡¯t even know he made socks.


    Dale had put his arms around me, chuckling.


    ¡°Sweetheart, after this tour is over, we¡¯re going to be able to buy everything in that store.¡±


    The concept was so foreign to me, I couldn¡¯t quite grasp it.


    When I¡¯d asked how we were going to get back home, Dale just made a phone call and there was a limo waiting to drive us when we got downstairs to the lobby.


    Rutgers¡¯ full-time faculty housing was nice¡ªinstead of apartments, they were townhouses all stuck together in rows. John was a professor there and he¡¯d insisted we move two years ago after everything happened with the stepbeast. He said it was because he didn¡¯t want people hounding Dale once his name was out there and the Black Diamonds were famous, and I¡¯m sure that was partially true.


    Rutgers¡¯ full-time faculty housing was completely private¡ªthey didn¡¯t want students bothering the professors at home. For that reason, it was near campus but technically not on it, hidden away in a little wooded cul-de-sac. You¡¯d never know it was there¡ªit didn¡¯t even have a street sign. All the mail went through the university, so while the townhouses had addresses, they weren¡¯t published or used anywhere. The only bad thing about it was we could never get pizza delivered¡ªthey couldn¡¯t find the house!


    I think that was the reason we¡¯d managed to keep it from the press for so long that Dale had a girlfriend¡ªme!¡ªand she was living at his house. They could have traced Dale¡¯s father¡ªthey had the same last name¡ªto Rutgers, but that would be as far as they could go, unless someone directly told them John lived in faculty housing. And even then, they¡¯d have a hard time finding the townhouses.


    The limo driver even passed it twice, the driveway was so hidden. Finally, he pulled up at the townhouse and we climbed out.

 Page 10

    ¡°He¡¯s here.¡± Dale nodded to the Porsche 911 that reminded me of a squished VW Beetle in front of the house with the license plate: SPD DMN. Speed Demon. It was like he was asking to get pulled over, but that was Greg¡ªbold, brash and in your face.


    ¡°Awesome.¡± I carried the bag with our clothes in it up the steps. ¡°I can¡¯t wait.¡±


    John and Greg were sitting at the kitchen table. I smiled at John but I didn¡¯t even acknowledge Greg as I passed them on the way to the stairs. The townhouses were built with one, two, or three bedroom units. We had the latter. John¡¯s bedroom was on the ground floor and ours was upstairs. The third bedroom, on the other side of the bathroom from ours, he used as an office.


    ¡°Sara!¡± John called after me. ¡°I made cinnamon rolls!¡±


    He knew they were my favorite.


    ¡°We ordered room service,¡± I called back over my shoulder, seeing Dale standing there, hands in his jeans pockets. He¡¯d told me to go straight upstairs, that he would handle things with the manager. Which was fine with me. Greg Richer didn¡¯t like me and vice versa. It was always better when we weren¡¯t in the same room together.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± John asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to get ready for work.¡± I trudged up the stairs, heading into our room at the top of the stairs. I loved coming home. When Dale was gone, I spent a lot of time in our room, on the bed where we made love, smelling him on the sheets. The room was an amalgam of us¡ªmy easel and paints, his guitars and sheet music.


    I tossed the bag and crawled into bed, hugging my pillow and closing my eyes. I hadn¡¯t slept much the night before¡ªnot that I was complaining¡ªbut the moment my body hit the mattress, I realized how tired I really was.


    I hadn¡¯t shut the door so I could hear them. At first it was just talking, mumbled voices, nothing clear. Then the voices got louder. And louder.


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a flying fuck if they know!¡± That was Dale. ¡°I¡¯m going to marry her. If I lose some crazy little girl bubblegum pop fans because they can¡¯t handle that? Well so fucking what!¡±


    ¡°If this gets picked up by the teen mags, you¡¯re over before you even started, kid.¡±


    That was Greg. When Dale told me his full name for the first time, I couldn¡¯t believe it. Greg Richer. Managers, as a concept, were mind-boggling to me. They took twenty percent of an artist¡¯s income, and for what? It was Dale who had put his foot down with the record company. They had songs and tracks for him all planned out¡ªthey wanted him to sing what they wanted.


    Dale refused. He¡¯d been the one to negotiate with them, not Greg. In fact, Greg had insisted he concede or there would likely be no record deal at all.


    But he was wrong.


    Dale had gotten what he wanted¡ªBlack Diamond had recorded all of their own, original songs. I often told Dale Greg¡¯s last name was apropos because as far as I could tell, Greg got richer while Dale did all the work. But for some strange reason, a manager was considered necessary. A necessary evil, maybe.


    ¡°What do you want me to say? Our friends were getting married. I wasn¡¯t going to skip out on them because there might be cameras around.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to dry hump her in the hallway!¡± Greg snapped. ¡°They¡¯ve got a picture in here of you grabbing her crotch under her skirt.¡±


    ¡°I was not. I was putting on a garter. It¡¯s a tradition.¡±


    ¡°Image is not about what happened. It¡¯s about what it looks like happened. And right here, it looks like you¡¯re grabbing her crotch.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s my girlfriend,¡± Dale said. ¡°So it¡¯s out. We deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Jan¡¯s got to find some way to spin this.¡±


    ¡°Did you come here to lecture me or was there a point to this meeting? My fianc¨¦ is waiting for me.¡±


    ¡°The record company wants to cancel the tour.¡±


    My head came up off the pillow, my heart dropping to my toes. I couldn¡¯t even imagine what Dale was feeling, hearing those words. I ran to the doorway, straining to hear.


    ¡°I told you, image is everything. So you can sing, big deal. You have a pretty face and you can play the guitar and make girls go nuts. Big fucking deal. Do you know how many others there are just like you? Kids like you come and go in this business.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t hear anyone then. I held my breath, trying to hear something¡ªanything!


    ¡°Did you talk to Roy Masters?¡±


    He was the head of Sonic House, the label that had put out Black Diamond¡¯s album. He was a gruff old man, nearly entirely bald, who smoked cigars and rasped when he talked. I had met him only once, when Dale had taken me to L.A. to show me around¡ªit had been my very first time in an airplane. Roy had gotten up from the chair behind his desk, which was no easy feat, considering he had to weigh three-hundred pounds, and peered at me, frowning.


    ¡°So this is the young lady who¡¯s giving us so much trouble?¡± Roy mused, glancing at Dale, then back to me, where I was pressed tight against Dale¡¯s side. ¡°Well son, she looks like the good kind of trouble to me.¡±


    Then he¡¯d laughed and puffed on his cigar, sitting back down in his executive chair, the leather making a ¡°whoosh¡± sound under his weight.


    ¡°He¡¯s the only thing standing between you and disaster, punk.¡± Greg again. He sounded weary and I smiled. I couldn¡¯t blame him. When Dale wanted something, he was tireless and fearless in his pursuit. And breaking him down wasn¡¯t easy, although I¡¯d watched it happen over the course of the past two years, inch by inch.


    ¡°That and I¡¯ll Always Come For You just hit Billboard¡¯s number one.¡±


    Greg said it like an afterthought but his words seared through me like fire. I couldn¡¯t breathe, I was so stunned. Then I was running, bolting down the stairs, jumping the last two and tearing around the corner, heading to the kitchen.


    ¡°Number one? Number one!¡± I squealed, putting my arms around Dale, who looked so stunned I nearly knocked him over. He grabbed me by the waist, meeting my eyes, and I laughed when he squeezed me tight and swung me around the kitchen.


    ¡°I have to call the band.¡±


    ¡°You have to lay the fuck low!¡± Greg insisted, wagging his finger at both of us. ¡°And you, missy, you need to be invisible. You hear me? In-fucking-visible! Don¡¯t you go anywhere.¡±


    I laughed as Dale put me down. I heard his heart hammering in his chest when I rested my flushed cheek there. Greg Richer wasn¡¯t going to put a damper on this day, I wouldn¡¯t let him.


    ¡°Go to hell.¡± I stuck my tongue out at him and hugged Dale harder. ¡°He¡¯s got the number one single!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Greg stood, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. I was sure he had it dyed because the lines around his eyes told me he was at least fifty, in spite of the spray-on tan. ¡°But that all happened before this.¡±


    He picked up the newspaper and shook it at us.


    ¡°Shake the stupid paper and yell all you want, he¡¯s still number one.¡± I grinned up at Dale and he grinned back,


    ¡°If I thought it would do any good, I¡¯d roll it up and smack you both on the nose like the naughty damned pups you are.¡± Greg glanced over at John, who just sat quietly, sipping his coffee. ¡°John, can you talk any sense into these two kids of yours?¡±


    ¡°Only one of them is officially mine,¡± John reminded him over the rim of his coffee mug. It had a reprint of Munch¡¯s ¡°Scream¡± on it. ¡°But I¡¯d love to make the other one official, since I already think of her as my daughter.¡±


    His words filled me with warmth.


    ¡°If he marries her, all this goes away!¡± Greg exclaimed. ¡°Don¡¯t you get that? Nights at the Waldorf Astoria and two hundred dollar pairs of Nikes go bye-bye!¡±


    He waggled his fingers, glaring at me. I looked down at my shoes, feeling guilty. Had they really cost two hundred dollars?


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡± I turned to the manager, frowning. ¡°So the news is out now. Let¡¯s see what happens. Black Diamond is number one and the world now knows Dale Diamond has a girlfriend.¡±


    ¡°A fianc¨¦e,¡± Dale countered, putting his arms around my waist from behind. I closed my hands over his.


    ¡°So let¡¯s see what happens,¡± I said.¡±Maybe it won¡¯t make any difference at all.¡±


    ¡°I can tell you after twenty years in this business, it¡¯s going to make a very big difference, young lady.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t cry over spilled milk,¡± John interjected. ¡°The horse is out of the barn, as they say. So let it run.¡±


    ¡°Let it run?¡± Greg put his head in his hands. ¡°Listen, kid, I¡¯m on your side. Quit treating me like the damned enemy. I do what I do for a reason. You might not know what that reason is, but I always have one.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just afraid your gravy train is going to run dry,¡± I countered.


    Greg gave me a sharp look and then met Dale¡¯s eyes over my head.


    ¡°Did you ever think about what would happen to Sara if it leaked out that she¡¯s your girl¡ªfianc¨¦e? She¡¯s going to be hounded, constantly, by the paparazzi. And they can be brutal. Once they know her name, they are going to uncover everything they can about her. And I mean everything.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I felt suddenly faint.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t think of that, did you, sweetheart?¡± Greg gave me a sad little smile.


    ¡°Fuuuuck.¡± Dale drew the word out, arms tightening around me, resting his cheek against the top of my head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sara.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡± If anything it was my fault, for nudging Matt to ask Dale to be a bridegroom, so we could walk down the aisle together, even if it wasn¡¯t my wedding. What had I been thinking? Of course it would mean they¡¯d dig into my past. They¡¯d find out about the stepbeast, about my mom. About everything.


    ¡°Well I¡¯m glad you both now see the gravity of the situation.¡± Greg leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.


    ¡°Well what do you want me to do?¡± I threw up my hands, exasperated. ¡°Become a hermit and never leave the house again? Move to Taiwan? Kill myself?¡±


    Dale¡¯s arms tightened at that last.


    ¡°No of course not.¡± Greg sighed. ¡°Well¡­ maybe that first one¡­ just until the tour is over¡­¡±


    ¡°About that¡­¡± Dale kissed the top of my head. ¡°It¡¯s probably not the best time to bring it up, but I want to bring her on tour.¡±


    The manager looked at him, aghast, and so did I.


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Greg¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°I forbid it.¡±


    ¡°Everyone already knows, right?¡± Dale shrugged. ¡°So if she¡¯s on tour with me, we have round the clock protection. If she¡¯s here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been fine here,¡± I protested, glancing at John. ¡°We¡¯ve been fine, haven¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°True.¡± John nodded. ¡°But that was before they were focused on you. Now they have a name to go with the face. We¡¯re secluded here, but not that secluded.¡±

 Page 11

    ¡°You really want me to go with you?¡± I turned in Dale¡¯s arms, looking up at him.


    ¡°I¡¯m tired of being apart.¡± He pressed his forehead to mine. ¡°I can¡¯t stand one more goodbye.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± That sad look in his eyes broke my heart. ¡°My job¡­¡±


    It wasn¡¯t much, but it was mine. I¡¯d finally started feeling what it was like to have my own life, a new sense of autonomy. I¡¯d finally been able to contribute to the rent¡ªwell, really, I just used my money to grocery shop for the week. John refused to take my money so I snuck it in that way.


    ¡°Just think about it.¡± Dale kissed me softly on the lips.


    ¡°You won¡¯t need to think about it.¡± Greg stood, picking his leather briefcase up off the floor. I watched as he set it flat on the table and opened the gold tabs. ¡°Because you¡¯re not going. No girls on tour. Here¡¯s your copy of Billboard.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t resist. I ran over to pick it up, and there it was, right at the top.


    I Will Always Come For You - Black Diamond


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to run. I¡¯m late for my next appointment.¡± Greg snapped his briefcase closed. ¡°Would you two please, please stay out of trouble?¡±


    Greg was looking at Dale, not me, so I dared to stick my tongue out. But I pulled it quickly back in when the manager glanced over at John.


    ¡°Please? We¡¯ve got a few months until the tour. Just keep them under wraps until then, eh, John?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡± John shrugged one shoulder in response.


    He left and we all stood there looking at each other, grinning like idiots.


    ¡°Number one.¡± Dale whispered.


    ¡°Look!¡± I took the paper over to show him. I couldn¡¯t stop smiling.


    ¡°That¡¯s one dream come true.¡± John smiled too, coming over to give Dale a hug. ¡°I¡¯m so proud of you, son.¡±


    That brought tears to my eyes. I think even Dale¡¯s eyes were a little shiny when they let go. John saw me tearing up and leaned over to kiss my cheek as they started to fall.


    ¡°You¡¯re a good girl, Sara. You didn¡¯t do anything wrong. And whatever dirt they decide to dig up, it doesn¡¯t reflect on you. You understand?¡±


    I nodded, even though I didn¡¯t quite believe him. It was going to reflect on all of us and I dreaded it. I didn¡¯t want anyone else to be hurt by it, least of all Dale and John. They were the only two men I¡¯d ever felt I could really trust.


    ¡°Oh crap!¡± I glanced at the clock on the microwave. ¡°I¡¯m going to be late for work!¡±


    Dale sighed as I ran over and grabbed my car keys out of the dish on the table by the door¡ªthankfully I¡¯d only been carrying a small clutch at the wedding with some tissue and a little bit of cash in it. John had taken his car to the wedding, so my keys where right where they should have been.


    I ran back to give Dale another kiss, full on the lips. He folded me in, his mouth reminding me of our night together, our homecoming. I wanted him so much in that moment I couldn¡¯t think of anything else.


    ¡°Sure you don¡¯t want to call in?¡± he breathed when we parted. I stared at those sweet, pouty lips, my tummy doing slow flips as I remembered his mouth on me. Everywhere.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± I groaned, pulling myself reluctantly away. ¡°I¡¯ll be home around five.¡±


    ¡°Spaghetti for dinner,¡± John called.


    ¡°Yum!¡± I opened the door, glancing back over my shoulder. Dale was looking after me with longing eyes. ¡°Number one!¡±


    Then he smiled. It was slow to start, but then he was grinning, the light back in his eyes.


    That was how I left him.


    CHAPTER SEVEN


    Everybody tells artists that art school is a waste of time. For most artists, that seems to hold true. If you¡¯re truly an artist, you¡¯ll do it because you¡¯re compelled to do it, not because it¡¯s your ¡°major.¡± If you¡¯re not, it will end up as either a job or a hobby. Most artists are hacks. They sell out for the money and work in advertising where corporate executives dictate their lives, forcing them to draw happy families in front of brand new cars. The artists who end up practicing art as a hobby are usually happier but far poorer. Those are the artists you see airbrushing t-shirts at the local fair.


    I went to art school because I wasn¡¯t good at anything else except drawing, but everybody was right. It was a waste of time in that it didn¡¯t prepare me to go out into the world and make a living as an artist. Art school didn¡¯t guarantee me a job or even make me more attractive to potential employers. What it did do, no one ever could have told me and I never would have expected. Art school didn¡¯t teach me how to draw¡ªart school taught me how to see.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you do it.¡± Josh had a way of sneaking up on me, quiet as a cat.


    ¡°Do what?¡± He¡¯d startled me and I had jumped, smearing some of my India ink on my board. Frowning, I worked to make my mistake look like it was meant to be there.


    ¡°Customers bring this in, and you make that?¡± Josh picked up the picture I¡¯d been working from¡ªa little girl, just a toddler, holding onto a cat¡¯s tail. The cat glanced back at her with that haughty look only cats can give, like, ¡®Would you mind?¡¯


    I studied my drawing. Silkscreen printing t-shirts was very lucrative. Josh¡¯s father had a booming business making team bowling shirts for all the local leagues for years. It was Josh who urged him to expand into making t-shirts. According to Josh, his father doubled his profits the first year, and quadrupled them the second. At first they printed mostly slogans like ¡°Where¡¯s the Beef?¡±¡ªcopyright be damned¡ªbut people began to ask for images. Basic ones were easy, the outline of a cat or dog for the local humane society for example, but when the demand for original artwork began, Josh put an ad in the local paper for a designer.


    And I got the job.


    ¡°It¡¯s like magic.¡± Josh shook his head, looking incredulous.


    People who didn¡¯t know how to draw said that a lot, as if it was some impossible feat, but it really wasn¡¯t. I heard, ¡°I can only draw stick figures¡± a lot. What they didn¡¯t realize is they just stopped drawing at stick figures when they were about six or seven and academia pushed them into focusing more on letters and numbers. I didn¡¯t stop at stick figures. I just kept drawing. While everyone else was learning their times tables, I was drawing, learning as I went.


    ¡°It¡¯s not magic.¡± I smiled, putting down my brush so I could stretch. I got lost sometimes when I was drawing, forgetting everything, including things like time, or basic needs like eating or peeing. My bladder ached and my stomach growled.


    ¡°So I hear the prodigal son returned?¡± Josh pulled up another tall swivel seat to my station. ¡°I saw you two in the paper!¡±


    It was almost six¡ªquitting time. His father, Dave¡ªhis name silkscreened on the left breast pocket of his blue t-shirt, along with the name of his team, Oddballs, in the center¡ªhad given his son the keys and left for his league night, bowling bag in hand.


    Josh had been out sick for a week and we hadn¡¯t talked in a while. Dave started asking me to do a lot more in Josh¡¯s absence, including answering the phones and taking orders. He even started teaching me how to silkscreen. But I was glad Josh was back, because trying to keep up with my projects and do Josh¡¯s job was getting to be taxing!


    ¡°Yes. He¡¯s home. Some fans crashed my friend¡¯s wedding. It was a total bummer. We barely got out alive, I swear.¡± I shivered, remembering the gaggle of girls chasing us down. What did they think would happen if they caught us? What did they want, exactly?


    That was you, not so long ago.


    Well yes. I¡¯d been an obsessed fan once too. I told myself I wouldn¡¯t have chased Tyler Vincent down like a dog after a rabbit, but the truth was I probably would have. There was something about that state of mind, when fans worked themselves up into a frenzy. The star became an object, not a flesh and blood person. They became something to want, to covet, to own or possess. Dale was right¡ªI think they would have torn the flesh off him just to have a piece. Fans, when they got into a group like that, weren¡¯t in their right mind.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised they haven¡¯t been hounding this place for more pictures of you.¡± Josh glanced out the window into the parking lot. The building was in a strip mall and there were always people coming and going.


    ¡°Maybe they won¡¯t find me.¡± That was my best hope. The thought of being trailed by paparazzi made me very nervous. Dale said they did it all the time in L.A. Thankfully, the one time he¡¯d taken me out there, we never had a problem. He¡¯s been careful about where we went just for that reason. Of course, back then, no one even knew we were together. I was the invisible girlfriend.


    ¡°So he¡¯s home for how long now?¡±


    ¡°Til the end of the summer.¡± I slid off my stool, taking my brush over to the sink.


    I didn¡¯t advertise my relationship with Dale¡ªin fact, I hardly ever talked about him to anyone. His manager and publicist had impressed that upon me emphatically. But Dale had come in to pick me up from work once and Josh had been there, so he knew we were dating.


    I had gone to high school with Josh¡ªhe reminded me that we¡¯d been in the same freshman English class, although I only vaguely remembered it. He was a jock and ran with a whole other crowd. I knew the rumors about him and Holly Larson¡ªthat she had a baby and gave it up for adoption. It was probably true, since Holly had gone to Iselin Academy with us. But they weren¡¯t together anymore.


    Josh said a football injury his senior year kept him from playing college ball. That¡¯s why he decided to hold off on college and work with his dad at the print shop.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s good news for you, huh?¡± Josh followed me over to the sink, watching as I squeezed the brush with my fingers under the tap until the water ran clear. ¡°What¡¯s next for Mr. Rock Star now that the album¡¯s out? I hear that song everywhere I go.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just hit Billboard¡¯s number one.¡± I couldn¡¯t keep the pride out of my voice as I headed back to my station to clean up. I was glad Josh was around to answer phones and take orders so I could finish this design. Dave was making t-shirts in the morning. The toddler on the t-shirt was turning eighteen and her mother had ordered t-shirts for everyone to wear at her graduation party as a gag.


    ¡°Wow, I had no idea.¡± Josh took a seat on the stool again, watching as I cleaned up my station. ¡°The big time!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s going on tour at the end of August.¡± I fished my purse out from under my drawing table. ¡°Opening for Dark Wing.¡±


    ¡°Wow!¡± Josh said again. It was impressive¡ªDark Wing was huge, a classic rock band still going after their early 1970¡¯s debut. ¡°For how long?¡±


    ¡°Too long.¡± I sighed, slinging my purse over my shoulder and leaning my elbow on the desk. ¡°But he wants me to go out on tour with him.¡±


    ¡°What about your job here?¡± Josh didn¡¯t look very happy at the prospect of my leaving and I didn¡¯t blame him. When he hired me he said he¡¯d gone through three designers already who had either quit or he had to fire. You¡¯d think there would be more starving artists out there willing to draw for six bucks an hour but apparently not.

 Page 12

    ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡± I shrugged. ¡°It would be hard to just pick up and go. Then again, I miss him when he¡¯s gone, so¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m sure he¡¯s rolling in the dough by now.¡± Josh sounded bitter. ¡°You probably won¡¯t need this job for long anyway.¡±


    ¡°Oh he hasn¡¯t seen any royalties yet. He won¡¯t for quite a while.¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t give him money up front?¡± Josh frowned. ¡°What a rip-off.¡±


    ¡°Well he got an advance,¡± I explained. ¡°But he has to pay for everything out of it. Making the album, promotion, marketing, the tour, making the music video. All of that comes out of his advance.¡±


    ¡°They should call it leftovers, not an advance.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s more accurate.¡± I laughed. ¡°Plus he still has to pay his manager. He gets twenty percent. And there¡¯s his publicist. I don¡¯t know how much she gets. But when everyone else is paid, then Dale gets a quarter of what¡¯s left.¡±


    ¡°A quarter?¡±


    ¡°There are three other band members in Black Diamond.¡±


    ¡°Oh right.¡± Josh sighed. ¡°Man, I thought rock stars were millionaires!¡±


    ¡°I guess you have to be doing it longer¡ªand sell more.¡±


    ¡°Number one is pretty good!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s awesome,¡± I agreed. ¡°But the way the world works, somehow it¡¯s always the artist who gets shafted. They¡¯re the ones doing the work¡ªauthors write books, musicians write and sing songs, artists paint paintings¡ªbut everyone else gets the bulk of the money. It¡¯s kind of backwards if you ask me. Because without Dale¡ªthere¡¯s nothing for all these people to sell.¡±


    ¡°Yeah but what if he sucks? I mean, obviously he doesn¡¯t. But what if the record company takes a chance and no one buys the album or goes to the concert?¡±


    ¡°Then no one makes any money. I think it¡¯s kind of a balancing act,¡± I explained. ¡°They¡¯ll have some artists who take off like a rocket and sell millions and some that fall flat. The ones who sell millions make up for the ones who don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°So do you think you¡¯ll go?¡±


    ¡°On tour?¡± I shrugged. ¡°I really don¡¯t know yet.¡±


    ¡°I guess having a rock star boyfriend is kind of like being a military wife. My uncle was in the military and he got deployed for months at a time. My aunt didn¡¯t even know where he was.¡±


    ¡°Well I guess that¡¯s something.,¡± I said. ¡°At least I don¡¯t have to worry about him getting shot at.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s looking at the bright side.¡± He grinned. ¡°Hey, are you doing anything after work? I¡¯m starving, I was going to head over to Connie¡¯s Diner and get a bite. You want to come?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I can¡¯t.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I have to get home.¡±


    ¡°Oh right, rock star waiting and all.¡±


    ¡°John will have dinner waiting.¡± I smiled. ¡°Have a good night, Josh!¡±


    Pavlov would have been proud. My stomach growled the minute I pulled up to the townhouse and smelled John¡¯s spaghetti cooking. I looked around furtively before getting out of the car but didn¡¯t see anything unusual. There were no reporters with cameras surrounding the house. Maybe we would all be able to go on with our lives after all. People would forget about the pictures and the article, the one with the headline, ¡°Diamond Rocker Back Together With Girlfriend?¡±


    I had hoped they wouldn¡¯t print my name but it was there, in black and white. Sara Wilson


    ¡°I¡¯m home!¡± I announced, kicking off my shoes and dropping my purse near the door. The house was redolent with the smell of John¡¯s spaghetti sauce. I glanced into the kitchen and saw garlic bread waiting to go into the oven. The table was set. Where was everybody?


    ¡°John?¡± I called, stopping near his bedroom door. It was closed.


    ¡°I¡¯m on the phone!¡± His voice was muffled through the door. ¡°Be out in a few! Would you stir the sauce for me?¡±


    I did what he asked, taking a spoonful as payment of course¡ªand rather than thanking me, my stomach growled in protest¡ªmore, more! Halfway up the stairs, I heard the sweet sound of Dale¡¯s guitar. My heart lifted in my chest and I bounded up the other half, throwing our door open and leaping at him.


    ¡°Hey!¡± He barely had time to put his guitar aside before I tackled him, covering his face with kisses as we rolled on the bed. ¡°Wow. I always wanted to get a dog so I could be greeted like that, but I think I like this much better.¡±


    ¡°Woof.¡± I panted like a dog and he laughed, sliding his hand behind my neck so he could pull me down for a real kiss. His mouth was soft and open and he tasted like honey. He had started sucking on Ricola cough drops to soothe his throat. Singers needed a lot of those, apparently. I just knew their Ricola commercial with the three Swiss leprechaun-looking fellows annoyed me to no end.


    ¡°You taste like dinner.¡± He smiled rolling so we could be side by side. ¡°Is it ready?¡±


    ¡°I hope so. I¡¯m starving.¡±


    ¡°How was work?¡±


    ¡°Same as always,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m glad Josh is back. I actually got to draw today.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like him.¡±


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t start. Josh is harmless.¡±


    ¡°He flirts with you.¡±


    ¡°He flirts with every girl,¡± I said, exasperated. ¡°So was it quiet here today?¡±


    ¡°Except for Dad complaining about grading first year essays. He¡¯s pretty sure we¡¯re all going to be illiterate by the next century.¡±


    ¡°No reporters?¡±


    ¡°Not a peep.¡± He shook his head.


    ¡°Maybe we got lucky.¡±


    ¡°Kids!¡± John called up the stairs. ¡°Dinner!¡±


    It was funny how he called us kids. I guessed maybe we would always be kids to him.


    ¡°I love Mondays.¡± I sighed happily, taking a seat at the table. Mondays was John¡¯s day off from teaching¡ªhe had no classes on Monday, just office hours in the morning. He always cooked something delicious on Mondays. He had already put all the food on the table and poured me a glass of milk. Dale had a bottled water and John had a beer.


    ¡°Most people hate Mondays.¡± John smiled. ¡°Back to work day.¡±


    ¡°Monday is spaghetti day.¡±


    Dale looked at me. ¡°I thought that was Wednesday?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Prince spaghetti day,¡± John said. ¡°For shame. I make my own pasta.¡±


    I nudged Dale on the table, smiling at him. I felt his hand on my knee and smiled. He gave it a gentle squeeze and a look that said, ¡°Later.¡± It made me shiver.


    ¡°So it was quiet here all day, Dale says.¡±


    ¡°Except for his incessant guitar playing,¡± John joked. ¡°When are you gonna go out there and get a real job?¡± John¡¯s eyes were twinkling but Dale didn¡¯t take the bait.


    ¡°That¡¯s funny, I thought it was quiet except for all your whining about students who didn¡¯t know the difference between there, their and they¡¯re.¡±


    ¡°All sound the same to me,¡± I said, grinning.


    ¡°Oh the humanity.¡± John groaned. ¡°To answer your rather obtuse question with a direct answer¡ªno reporters called today.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s a relief,¡± I replied.


    ¡°However, I did get an interesting phone call from your mother, Dale.¡±


    ¡°What did she want?¡± Dale¡¯s hand gripped my knee.


    ¡°Your sister wants to come live with us.¡±


    Dale dropped his fork, staring at his father. I knew that look. My stomach knotted up tight. I¡¯d been hungry but now there was no room for food.


    ¡°Let me guess. She wants to go to Rutgers,¡± Dale snapped.


    ¡°She did just graduate,¡± John reminded him. ¡°And it makes the most sense, given that tuition is free since I¡¯m a professor there. You could have taken advantage of that fact too, you know.¡±


    Dale ignored that last point. ¡°I don¡¯t want to have anything to do with her. When is she coming?¡±


    ¡°Mid-August.¡±


    ¡°Just before the tour,¡± I said.


    ¡°Good. We¡¯ll be gone soon after she arrives.¡± Dale resumed twirling his spaghetti around a fork. ¡°It¡¯s good timing.¡±


    ¡°What if I don¡¯t go¡­ on tour, I mean.¡±


    Dale didn¡¯t answer that. I knew he didn¡¯t want to consider that as an option.


    ¡°Are you giving her my room?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No of course not,¡± John replied. ¡° I¡¯ll dismantle the office, put most of it in my room or in storage. She¡¯ll have her own room.¡±


    ¡°Is she flying?¡± Dale asked.


    ¡°No, your mother¡¯s driving her and bringing all her stuff.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± Dale put his fork down, pushing aay from the table. ¡°Just great.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to finish?¡± John asked as Dale got up.


    ¡°I just lost my appetite.¡± Dale walked out of the kitchen and started upstairs.


    John sighed. ¡°I guess I should have waited to tell him until after dinner.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go upstairs too.¡± I put my fork down. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, John.¡±


    ¡°Go on.I¡¯ll clean up.¡± John waved me on. ¡°He¡¯ll raid the fridge at midnight.¡±


    Of course he was right.


    ¡°Dale?¡± I called, slowly opening the door to our room.


    He was face down on the bed, words muffled, but I understood them anyway.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do it. I can¡¯t be in the same room with them. They¡¯re just going to pretend like nothing happened. And fucking Chrissy. She knows! She knows damned well and she¡¯s going to take advantage of him anyway.¡±


    ¡°John thinks she¡¯s his daughter,¡± I reminded him.


    ¡°Thinks is the optimum word there.¡±


    ¡°Okay fine. So she isn¡¯t really his daughter.¡± I sat next to him on the bed. ¡°What about me? He took me in and he loves me. He treats me like a daughter. Why would he treat Chrissy any differently¡ªeven if he did know?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re not the result of an affair with his best friend.¡±


    He had a point. What would John do, if he knew?


    I remembered the first time I¡¯d found out Dale had a sister who lived in Maine with his estranged mother. It had been enough of a shock to discover that Tyler Vincent, the man I¡¯d worshipped from afar, whose music I listened to constantly, whose videos I stayed up late and waited for on MTV, whose movies I attended religiously on opening day, just happened to be John¡¯s best friend. They¡¯d met before Tyler became a star, back when Tyler was teaching music at the University of Maine, the same place John had been teaching English.


    Then Dale had told me an even deeper secret, one John didn¡¯t know¡ªDale and his sister, Chrissy, weren¡¯t John¡¯s biological children. His mother had been involved with Tyler twenty years ago, a torrid affair¡ªand she continued to have an affair with him, according to Dale, even though both she and Tyler remained married to other people. Dale¡¯s mother had finally asked for a divorce¡ªDale said she was convinced Tyler was going to finally leave his wife for her, but he didn¡¯t¡ªand still, she never told John about the affair. Or the fact that his children weren¡¯t, in fact, his.

 Page 13

    When the children were asked where they wanted to live, Dale had chosen John, who already had a teaching job lined up in California, and Chrissy had chosen to stay in Maine with her mother. John had no idea his wife and his best friend had betrayed him¡ªbut his children knew. Dale told me Chrissy knew, although he wasn¡¯t sure how his younger sister had found out. Dale had discovered his mother¡¯s sordid secret because he¡¯d walked in on them, his mother and Tyler. She¡¯d sworn him to secrecy, but of course Dale would never tell. John was the man who raised him, and regardless of biology, was the man he would always think of as his father. He would never do anything to hurt him, and he¡¯d told me more than once, he believed telling John the truth about Tyler Vincent would kill him.


    I knew Dale resented his little sister for siding with her mother. He felt it was like condoning what she did. He thought Chrissy had stayed because she thought, like her mother had believed, rich and famous Tyler Vincent would take care of them. I guess, to some extent, he did, according to Dale. But apparently that didn¡¯t extend to college tuition.


    For that, Chrissy was turning to the man who had raised her, even though she knew full well he wasn¡¯t her real father. I understood why Dale felt so angry and betrayed, both by his sister¡¯s decision to stay and live in Maine with her mother¡ªDale made it clear he¡¯d never talk to Chrissy again if that¡¯s what she chose, and I think he meant it¡ªand now her decision to come sponge off the man who had raised her, a man she¡¯d called ¡°Dad,¡± most of her life, until the truth was revealed¡ªa man she had ultimately rejected.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, baby.¡± I put my hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles tighten at my touch. ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s really nothing to talk about.¡±


    I heard the phone ringing downstairs. We had one in our room but Dale had the habit of unplugging it when he was practicing.


    ¡°Sara!¡± It was John, calling up the stairs. ¡°Phone for you!¡±


    For me? It had to be Aimee¡ªwas she calling me from St. Bart¡¯s? I never did get a chance to talk to her after we¡¯d made our quick exit from the wedding. I braced myself, knowing she was going to be mad. I couldn¡¯t blame her. If my best friend¡¯s boyfriend was a rock star and had been the sole reason a whole bunch of crazy fans crashed my wedding, I¡¯d be mad too.


    ¡°Aimee?¡± Dale watched as I scrambled for the phone, having to find the cord under discarded clothes and socks, mostly mine, so I could plug it into the end.


    ¡°Most likely.¡± I picked up the phone, hearing that strange sort of open sound that meant John was still on the line downstairs. ¡°I got it, John, thanks.¡±


    John hung up and I waited, already feeling guilty, for Aimee to scold me for ruining her wedding.


    ¡°Hello?¡± I finally said, meeting Dale¡¯s eyes. He was watching, curious.


    ¡°Hello, Sara Wilson?¡± It was a man¡¯s voice and I blinked in surprise. My first thought was, oh no, a reporter! Why hadn¡¯t John asked who was calling?


    ¡°Yes, this is Sara,¡± I replied cautiously.


    Dale frowned and I knew he was thinking what I was thinking.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I told the man who answered¡ªwas that John Diamond?¡ªI told him I was Dave. From the t-shirt shop.¡±


    But he wasn¡¯t Dave from the t-shirt shop.


    ¡°Who is this?¡± I demanded. Dale was trying to grab the phone from me and I pushed him away, turning, the cord wrapping around my legs.


    It had to be a reporter. Who else?


    ¡°This is¡­¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Well, this is your father.¡±


    I dropped the receiver to the floor like it was on fire.


    CHAPTER EIGHT


    ¡°Sara, listen to me.¡± Dale reached across the table and took my hand. It was clammy and trembling but I didn¡¯t pull it away.


    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± I was listening. But my eyes were on the door. Every time the little bell over it rang I jumped.


    ¡°I know this man says he¡¯s your father,¡± Dale began.


    I rolled my eyes. This again? When the man on the other end of the phone said he was my father, the image of the stepbeast, the only father I¡¯d ever known, rose up to tower over me. My father, my real, biological father, was dead. That¡¯s what my mother always told me.


    ¡°Dale, come on.¡± I met his eyes briefly over the scones we¡¯d ordered. I loved Cuppa Joe¡¯s hot chocolate. Dale was drinking coffee¡ªblack. ¡°He passed every test I could think of. He knew the hospital I was born in. He knew my mother¡¯s maiden name. He knew her middle name. He knew my middle name.¡±


    ¡°All things he could have looked up in public record,¡± he reminded me. I glared at him. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not trying to be the bad guy here. Really, I¡¯m not. But this guy shows up the day after your picture is in the paper connected to me? Everyone knows rock stars are millionaires, right?¡±


    I regretted telling him about my conversation with Josh. But I always told him everything.


    ¡°How did he know about my birthmark?¡± I had tears in my eyes imagining my father¡ªmy real father¡ªholding me as a tiny baby, kissing the dark question-mark on my right shoulder. ¡°Everything he says rings true. He¡¯s from Florida. That¡¯s where my mother¡¯s family is. He knew everything about her I could think of to ask, at least from when she was younger. He even knew my grandmother¡¯s middle name. Even I had to look that up!¡±


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t you think that¡¯s a little strange?¡±


    ¡°Now he knows too much instead of not enough?¡± I had been holding back tears but now they slipped down my face.


    ¡°Sweetheart.¡± Dale wiped my tears. ¡°I love you. I¡¯m here for you, no matter what. It¡¯s me. Dale.¡±


    ¡°I know. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°I just¡­¡±He sighed. ¡°I should probably just shut up.¡±


    ¡°No, say it.¡±


    ¡°It just seems like a pretty weird coincidence that he happened to be in New York, saw your name in the paper, wondered if you might be the same Sara Wilson and decided to try to find you. And how did he find you, considering we had a whole city full of reporters who were trying and they failed?¡±


    ¡°You know, I told you.¡± I sighed. ¡°He said he tried finding me but I wasn¡¯t listed. So he looked up you¡ªand found out John taught at Rutgers. He said after that it was easy because so much of John¡¯s information was public. He called up USC in California where he worked before you moved here. He talked to some professor¡­ Lane Murdoch?¡±


    ¡°Yeah he and my dad were friends.¡±


    ¡°So when he called Rutgers looking for John, he found out about faculty housing and knew that was a dead end. He tried calling the university and asking for John. He got John¡¯s assistant, Carol.¡±


    ¡°And then?¡±


    ¡°Then he pretended to be this Lane Murdoch fellow, said he would be in NY on a layover for just a few hours and wanted to see him. Could he possibly have his home number?¡±


    ¡°And she gave it to him.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°He said¡­ he said he charmed her into it.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Dale replied. ¡°And what did he say when you first talked to him on the phone? Who did he tell your dad he was?¡±


    I hesitated. ¡°Dave¡­ from the print shop.¡±


    ¡°But how did he know you worked there?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I just don¡¯t like it.¡± Dale said. ¡°It feels wrong to me.¡±


    ¡°Everything involving me and another man feels wrong to you,¡± I snapped.


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to be rational,¡± he said softly.


    ¡°Fine, why don¡¯t I just tell him up front I¡¯m going to require a blood sample, so we can do some DNA testing?¡± I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°Those take weeks. By the time we had the results, if he is what I think he is, he¡¯ll be long gone.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re impossible.¡± I felt the corners of my mouth twitching, ready to smile.


    ¡°And you¡¯re incredibly sweet and trusting and I love you.¡± He leaned over and kissed me. ¡°But maybe you should ask for that blood test.¡±


    ¡°Dale!¡± I punched his shoulder.


    ¡°Damn, remind me not to get in the ring with you.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God that¡¯s him.¡± My mouth went instantly dry. I couldn¡¯t even swallow. He was tall and lean, wearing khakis and a button-down light blue chambray shirt, just like he said he would be. He had short, sandy blond hair, not quite a military cut but close. I searched his face for any resemblance as he scanned the room, hesitating in the doorway.


    His gaze skipped over me to Dale and then back to me. Our eyes met and he smiled, lifting his hand in a wave. I waved back, hoping I didn¡¯t look overeager. I felt overeager and had for weeks. I¡¯d been ready to get in my car and drive to LaGuardia, where he first called me from. He was heading back to Florida¡ªhe¡¯d only been in New York for a few days on business, he said. But he promised he would be back in a month.


    And here he was, keeping that promise.


    He¡¯d given me his Florida phone number and we¡¯d talked on the phone several times. He assured me I could ask him anything I wanted. Dale had woken up a few times in the middle of the night to find me sitting next to the bed on the floor with a notebook and a flashlight, writing down all the things I wanted to know, things my mother had never told me. A lifetime of questions crammed into two weeks.


    And now that he was here, I didn¡¯t know what to say.


    He strode over to our table and Dale stood, reaching his hand out.


    ¡°Benjamin Barnes.¡± Ben shook Dale¡¯s hand. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Dale Diamond.¡± He looked over at me. ¡°I¡¯m going to take my coffee over there and let you two talk.¡±


    ¡°Oh you don¡¯t have to do that.¡± Ben¡¯s smile widened when he glanced at me and I smiled back. My cheeks hurt from smiling.


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, I need to catch up on my reading.¡± Dale held up a copy of the New York Daily News. I didn¡¯t realize he¡¯d brought it along, but then I saw the picture of us that had been printed two weeks ago. He¡¯d folded it so Ben could see it clearly when he held it up. I rolled my eyes at the posturing¡ªdid he really think someone would make up a story so elaborate?


    Dale leaned over and his lips brushed my cheek and he whispered, ¡°I love you.¡±


    ¡°Take a seat,¡± I said to Ben, nodding at the chair across from mine. I still didn¡¯t know what to call him. Ben seemed so formal and calling him ¡°Dad¡± didn¡¯t feel quite right yet either so I tried to avoid calling him anything.


    Dale took a step back, letting Ben pull out the chair.


    ¡°Sara, I¡¯ll be right over there if you need me,¡± Dale said again, pointing to an empty table near the window. I just nodded.


    ¡°Do you want something?¡± I asked, looking down at my hot chocolate that was, by now, not hot at all. Dale had taken his coffee and scone.

 Page 14

    ¡°No, I¡¯m good.¡± Ben leaned his elbows on the table, looking at me. ¡°How are you?¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Such a stupid answer, but what was I supposed to say? Dale and John had both encouraged me to go to a therapy appointment¡ªor to at least call Dr. Jarvis¡ªbut I hadn¡¯t. I knew what Dr. Jarvis would ask. How does it make you feel? I was excited, nervous, anxious, confused, afraid, sad, and a little angry. The neurotic seven dwarves. But I wasn¡¯t about to tell Ben that.


    ¡°How about you?¡± I asked. ¡°How was your flight?¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    So we were both fine. Everything was fine. Awkward, but fine. Why could I manage to ask him a hundred questions on the phone but feel so strange and distant when we were face to face?


    ¡°Oh, I brought those pictures.¡± I grabbed my purse, unzipping the top and digging through. They were in a white envelope. I put it on the table, sliding it over to him. ¡°Mom had a whole box, but I just brought a few. The sample pack.¡±


    He smiled, picking up the envelope and taking out the pictures.


    ¡°I tried to pick ones of me at different ages,¡± I said, watching him study each picture and then put it down on the table when he moved on to the next.¡°If you really want, we can go through the whole box some time.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± He nodded, putting another picture down on the table. Me at age three¡ªI knew, because there were three candles on the cake Mom was helping me cut. Then me as a newborn, almost completely bald. It was a black and white photo and I was propped up on a couch with pillows.


    ¡°That¡¯s how I remember you.¡± Ben tapped that photograph, glancing up at me. ¡°All these years I pictured you as a baby.¡±


    ¡°Sorry I grew up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± He smiled sadly. ¡°I¡¯m just sorry I missed it.¡±


    ¡°Me too.¡± I reached over and picked up the picture of me as a baby.


    ¡°Oh, wow, look at that.¡± Ben put a picture of me and my mom on the table. I was about fourteen or fifteen. My freshman year in high school, because I recognized the painting I was holding. It had won some sort of contest. ¡°Carolyn never aged a bit, did she?¡±


    ¡°Not much,¡± I agreed, looking at the two of us, her arm around me. We were like twins, blond and blue-eyed, same nose, same smile.


    ¡°Aww, look at you.¡± Ben put another photo on the table. ¡°Your first bike?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± It was a white bike with a banana seat and pink streamers. I was riding toward the camera, head down, determined. I¡¯d learned late¡ªall the other kids on my block knew how to ride a bike before me. It wasn¡¯t until my mother met Pete Holmes, future stepbeast, that she could even afford to buy me a bike.


    ¡°Is that your stepfather?¡± Ben tapped the photographed. ¡°In the background?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the stepbeast,¡± I agreed. My mother had been behind the camera. ¡°Although I don¡¯t think they were married yet. I was in second grade when that happened.¡±


    ¡°He really did all those horrible things to you?¡±


    I leaned back in my chair, pulling up my t-shirt to expose my midriff. The doctors did the best they could, but when you have a six-inch piece of splintered door frame hammered into your side by a two-hundred and fifty pound man¡ªlet¡¯s just say my days of wearing bikinis and half-shirts were over.


    ¡°Good God.¡± Ben cringed. I pulled my shirt back down. ¡°And Carolyn¡¯s dead? What did he do to her?¡±


    Not half as much as he did to me.


    I met his eyes and thought about telling him the rest. How the stepbeast had started coming into my room drunk in the middle of the night when I was fifteen. How I¡¯d finally worked up the courage to tell my mother two years later after I¡¯d already missed three periods, and how she¡¯d turned away, not believing me. How I¡¯d missed my last year of high school, hiding in my room, afraid of the stepbeast, and with good reason. Somehow I¡¯d known it was going to happen. The inevitable beating. The baby girl who stopped kicking inside me when I was about six months pregnant. How the stepbeast kept me locked in until all the bruises had faded before letting my mother take me to the hospital. And how she lied. And I lied too.


    But how could I tell him that?


    ¡°She killed herself.¡± I picked up the picture of me and my mother. Freshman in high school. Fourteen or fifteen. Had he started raping me yet, I wondered. ¡°I guess she just couldn¡¯t handle it.¡±


    ¡°Jesus. What a mess.¡± That about summed it up. ¡°So you were left all on your own?¡±


    ¡°I had Dale.¡± I smiled, glancing over at him. He had headphones on, but he was watching us. ¡°And John¡¯s been like a father to me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± He put all the pictures down on the table, leaning in and taking my hand. ¡°If I couldn¡¯t be there for you, I¡¯m glad you had someone.¡±


    ¡°Well you¡¯re here now.¡± I looked at him and noticed his eyes were blue, like mine. I looked so much like my mother it was hard to see if there was any of him in me. I looked down at our hands together, his swallowing mine. He had a healthy Florida tan. His watch was off-kilter and a white band of skin showed underneath.


    ¡°I know this is all new to you. Me too. And I haven¡¯t asked you what you want, but¡­¡± His gaze dropped to the photos on the table. ¡°I missed so much of you already. I really want to be a part of your life. But I¡¯d understand if you don¡¯t want that.¡±


    Was he kidding? I¡¯d spent my whole life believing he was dead¡ªmy mother told me he¡¯d been in a car accident. She didn¡¯t even have any pictures of him. The few times I asked, she¡¯d been very vague about the details¡ªjust that they¡¯d been young and in love. Then he died while I was still a baby and she had to raise me on her own. Until the stepbeast came along. I think my mother saw him as our savior. I saw him as the antichrist.


    And I spent years wishing my father was alive, wishing he could come save me. Then I¡¯d focused all that energy on Tyler Vincent, rock star, movie star¡ªthe perfect man, the perfect husband, the perfect father. He had a wife and three children he publicly adored and he lavished all sorts of gifts and attention on them¡ªwhile I had the stepbeast and dreaded going to sleep at night. It took me a year in therapy after it all happened to realize I¡¯d just been placing all my hopes on Tyler as a replacement father. My real father was dead, my stepfather was a beast, so Tyler Vincent would have to do.


    Ironic, considering how it all turned out. The more I listened to Dale¡¯s manager, Greg, talk about the music business, the more I realized how the lie of ¡°image¡± was created. No one in the public knew the real truth about celebrities and that was the point. To the rest of the world, Tyler Vincent was still a rock star, a movie star, the perfect man, husband and father. But Dale knew better. And so did I. Tyler Vincent was a lying philanderer. Everything about him was a lie. I was beginning to believe that was just part of being famous. People liked hearing comforting lies instead of the truth. The truth was too dark and twisted and full of demons. No one wanted to hear the truth.


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have asked, I¡¯m sorry.¡± He sat back in his chair. ¡°I know I have no right¡­¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head, trying to work my voice around the tears caught in my throat. ¡°I¡¯d like that. More than you could ever know. I¡¯d really, really like that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so relieved.¡± He leaned forward, smiling, and took a deep breath. ¡°Because I have good news. I just got a job here in New York. I¡¯m moving up here next month.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I couldn¡¯t believe my ears.


    ¡°That¡¯s the reason I¡¯ve been traveling back and forth. Today was my last part of the interview process. It¡¯s not official-official yet but the manager pretty much assured me I¡¯ve got the job if I want it.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God.¡± I sat back, incredulous.


    ¡°Too much, too soon?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No.¡± I gave a little, strangled laugh. ¡°No, I just can¡¯t believe my luck. Every time something bad happens, it¡¯s like the universe turns it around into something good.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t even tell him all the things.


    If I hadn¡¯t missed my last year of high school, I never would have gone to Iselin Academy, where I met Dale Diamond. And even then, if my stepfather could hold down a job, I wouldn¡¯t have been hungry the day Dale walked into class and heard my stomach growling. He wouldn¡¯t have offered me Skittles and started up our conversation.


    And if I hadn¡¯t been head over heels crazy-obsessed with Tyler Vincent, Dale wouldn¡¯t have offered to get me front row seats at his concert. (Of course, at the time, I had no idea Tyler Vincent was Dale¡¯s real father¡ªthat didn¡¯t come out until much later. And sometimes I still wondered if Dale had picked me because he saw the ¡°I heart Tyler Vincent¡± scribbled on my notebook. Like he saw me as a challenge. I didn¡¯t wonder about it before seeing Dr. Jarvis but I did now).


    But Dale was my best thing, my most lucky thing of all.


    Still, if the stepbeast hadn¡¯t lost control that day, if he hadn¡¯t beaten me and tried to kill me, I might never have moved in with John and Dale. Who knows, I might be dead. If Dale hadn¡¯t been there, I most certainly would be.


    And now, that stupid photographer who sold the pictures to the paper, the pictures that threatened Dale¡¯s whole career, had brought my father¡ªmy real father¡ªback into my life. My whole life was like being pushed off a cliff only to find I had a soft place to land after all.


    ¡°I¡¯m just glad you found me.¡± I couldn¡¯t stop the tears now. ¡°Now you can walk me down the aisle and dance at my wedding. And you can be there when your first grandchild is born.¡±


    ¡°Okay now you¡¯re scaring me a little.¡± He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± I sniffed, using a napkin to wipe my face. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, if Dale¡¯s manager has any say in it, we¡¯ll never get married.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re wearing a ring.¡± He nodded at my hand. ¡°A nice one too.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯ve had this one for a few weeks.¡± I looked at the huge diamond on my left hand. Then I showed him the ring on my right hand. ¡°But I¡¯ve had this one for two years and we¡¯re still not married. I¡¯ll believe it when the preacher says, ¡®And now you may kiss the bride.¡¯¡±


    Ben glanced over at Dale. He had his combat boots on¡ªready for battle¡ªpropped up on a chair. He leaned back in it, arms crossed over his chest, headphones on, just watching us.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t like me much, does he?¡± Ben asked, jerking his head toward Dale.


    ¡°He just loves me. He¡¯s very protective.¡± I smiled at Dale but he just raised an eyebrow at me and didn¡¯t smile back. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to see me hurt anymore.¡±


    ¡°That makes two of us,¡± Ben said, giving me a long look. ¡°Are you gonna tell him that he¡¯s going to have to be good and share his things or do I have to?¡±

 Page 15

    I laughed. ¡°Once he gets to know you, he¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°So tell me, is Aimee back from her honeymoon yet?¡± he asked, picking up the pictures again and leafing through them. I¡¯d mentioned Aimee in our phone conversations.


    ¡°Yes, we¡¯re having dinner with them tonight actually.¡±


    ¡°Oh look at this one.¡± Ben laughed, holding up a picture to the light. ¡°You were the most beautiful little girl. Did Carolyn put curlers in your hair?¡±


    ¡°Is that the Shirley Temple picture?¡± I glanced over, seeing the white lace dress and the long blonde curls. ¡°She made me wear those curlers to bed. They were torture. Child abuse, I tell you!¡±


    ¡°Is this where you grew up?¡±


    I nodded, looking at the picture. Me and a snowman in front of a little house. Back when the stepbeast only drank¡ªand beat up my mother¡ªon special occasions. I couldn¡¯t remember how many jobs he¡¯d gone through before he couldn¡¯t keep up the mortgage anymore and we¡¯d moved into the apartment complex. Of course, Dale lived in those apartments too, so perhaps it hadn¡¯t been all bad. The universe giveth, the universe taketh away.


    Ben continued to sift through pictures, asking questions, genuinely interested, and I found myself unraveling more of my past for him, untangling it as I went. It took hours and we both laughed and cried a little, but it was one of the memories I would hold onto forever, kept in my mind like a sensory snapshot¡ªthe smell of roasted coffee, the sweet taste of hot chocolate, the feel of my father¡¯s hand in mine, the big, roaring sound of his laugh.


    And when Dale came over and told me it was time to go to dinner, I couldn¡¯t believe it. Had we really talked so long? It had gone by in a blink. I tucked the pictures back into my purse, but I let Ben keep the one he asked for¡ªthe Shirley Temple snapshot. And then Ben put his big arms around me and hugged me goodbye. And for the first time in my life I called someone, ¡°Dad,¡± and meant it.


    And even when Dale insisted, I still didn¡¯t want to let him go.


    CHAPTER NINE


    ¡°I just don¡¯t get why he didn¡¯t try to find you before now.¡± Dale parked the car in the Olive Garden parking lot, pocketing the keys. Dale still didn¡¯t own a car so we were driving my old Dodge Dart.


    ¡°When my mom took off, he says at first he was relieved.¡±


    ¡°Nice.¡± Dale opened the door for me and I stepped in, my stomach growling. I¡¯d only had a scone and a hot chocolate all day and now I was starving. I could smell garlic and onions. I was suddenly wishing we¡¯d called ahead because all the people waiting in the lobby were standing between me and my dinner.


    ¡°Come on, he was just a kid¡ªyounger than us,¡± I reminded him. ¡°Would you want to have to take care of a newborn at that age?¡±


    Dale didn¡¯t answer. He was looking over the crowd, trying to find Aimee and Matt.


    ¡°Once he got a little older and thought about looking, he couldn¡¯t find us,¡± I explained, hanging onto his sleeve as he weaved through the crowd.


    ¡°He seemed to find you pretty easy,¡± Dale countered. ¡°Took him just one afternoon.¡±


    ¡°Well he agreed to the blood test,¡± I snapped.


    Dale stopped, looking back at me. ¡°You asked him?¡±


    ¡°I figured I¡¯d better, before you brought it up,¡± I said, sticking out my tongue.


    He snorted, taking my hand and leading me toward the bar.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get why it was so hard to find you before. Didn¡¯t your mom tell her family where she was going?¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t see them much.¡± I shrugged. ¡°One of my first memories is of grandmother asking for our address so she could send me a birthday gift and my mother refusing. I was so mad at her. I just wanted my birthday present.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t she want them to know where she was?¡± Dale asked, brow knitted. He was still trying to find Matt and Aimee but I was beginning to think they weren¡¯t here yet. ¡°My grandfather used to beat her. That¡¯s what my mom told me.¡±


    ¡°Why does this not surprise me?¡± Dale muttered. He stopped, turning around and putting his hands on my hips. ¡°What did Dr. Jarvis say about that when you told him that?¡±


    ¡°You know exactly what he said.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°And he also said he was proud of me for breaking that abusive cycle.¡±


    ¡°With me,¡± he replied smugly. Then he leaned over, grabbing my ass and whispering, ¡°Because as often as I want to spank you, I refrain.¡±


    ¡°We still have time,¡± I reminded him, laughing as I pulled away. ¡°We haven¡¯t had kids yet.¡±


    ¡°There will be no spanking in our house,¡± he proclaimed. ¡°Unless it¡¯s me finally spanking you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey guys!¡± I waved to Aimee and Matt. They were already here, sitting at the bar. My stomach seemed to understand that meant we would get to eat sooner and grumbled loudly.


    Turned out we were twenty minutes late, which was perfect because the hostess called us before Dale and I could even find seats. The hostess seated us at a booth and the waitress came to take our drink orders. Aimee had pictures back from their honeymoon. We¡¯d already heard about how blue the water was and about the giant tortoise they¡¯d seen when they were snorkeling and how burnt Aimee got the first day because she forgot to put on sunscreen, but now we got to hear about it all over again, with visual aids.


    ¡°At least I didn¡¯t get all sunburned before our wedding night,¡± she said sheepishly.


    ¡°Close enough!¡± Matt protested. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t let me touch her for three days. Three days!¡±


    ¡°I was beet red.¡± Aimee sighed. ¡°I think I was redder than my hair. I made him keep going down the hall to get more ice for the bathtub.¡±


    ¡°Just what I wanted to do on my honeymoon,¡± Matt interjected through a mouthful of breadstick.


    ¡°My mom even warned me. She put sunblock in my purse for pete¡¯s sake.¡±Aimee slapped her forehead. ¡°And I still forgot!¡±


    ¡°You were just too caught up in being Mrs. Aimee Green,¡± I teased, taking a sip of my Diet Coke and wishing the waitress would hurry up with my Tour of Italy. I couldn¡¯t wait to eat my lasagna¡ªeven if it wasn¡¯t quite as good as John¡¯s homemade.


    ¡°Anyway, how did the meeting go?¡± Aimee asked, leaning forward, all ears.


    ¡°Yeah, enough about our honeymoon.¡± Matt shoved the pictures back into the envelope. ¡°Unless you want me to regale you with the tale of four times¡­¡±


    ¡°Matt!¡± Aimee blushed, nudging him with her elbow. It must have been pretty hard too because Matt coughed, spewing little bits of bread into the table. ¡°Shut up!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nothing,¡± Dale scoffed. ¡°One night we¡ª¡±


    I didn¡¯t elbow him. I reached over and shoved a breadstick into his mouth instead. Dale bit it and chewed, giving me a doughy grin.


    ¡°The meeting was¡­ amazing.¡± Of course I¡¯d told Aimee about Ben¡ªit was still hard to call him ¡°my dad,¡± even in my head, but it was getting easier.


    ¡°I knew it!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°Sara, I¡¯m so happy for you.¡±


    ¡°Hold onto the happy for a while,¡± Dale countered, washing down his bite of breadstick with my Diet Coke. ¡°We haven¡¯t seen the results of blood tests or anything yet.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, Dale.¡± Aimee raised her eyebrows at him. ¡°Do you really need to?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t explained Dale¡¯s conspiracy theory about Ben just looking for something sweet out of the deal that had nothing to do with me.


    ¡°He could be anybody. I mean, there¡¯s no father¡¯s name on her birth certificate and her mother isn¡¯t exactly around to tell us.¡±


    I winced at that and saw Aimee¡¯s look of sympathy which somehow made it worse. She still had both a mom and a dad¡ªeven if they didn¡¯t get along very well, with the exception of her wedding.


    ¡°It just seems suspicious to me, that¡¯s all. Maybe I¡¯m wrong.¡± Dale sat back in the booth, putting his arm over my shoulder. ¡°If the DNA comes back and he¡¯s really Sara¡¯s father, I¡¯ll be the first one to welcome him to the family.¡±


    ¡°Those tests take a long time, don¡¯t they?¡± Matt asked.


    The waitress had arrived with salad and then it was yes, cheese on the salad and yes, we need more refills and sure, bring another basket of breadsticks.


    ¡°I saw a show on DNA evidence,¡± Aimee said. ¡°It took like a month to get the results but they¡¯re pretty conclusive.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re actually starting to use it to get people out of jail,¡± Matt remarked.


    ¡°Yeah, that was it!¡± Aimee stabbed an olive on her plate. ¡°It was a death row inmate and the DNA evidence proved he wasn¡¯t even at the scene of the crime!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need a blood test,¡± I said softly, pushing Italian-dressing soaked lettuce around on my plate. ¡°I just know. Besides, he can answer every question I asked him. He even knew about my birthmark!¡±


    ¡°The one on your shoulder?¡± Aimee raised her eyebrows. ¡°Geez, Dale. That¡¯s pretty conclusive. You¡¯re going to make the guy submit to a blood test?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯d just feel better if we did one.¡±


    ¡°He agreed to it right away,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s worried about it.¡±


    ¡°Well there you go,¡± Matt said, pointing his fork at Dale. ¡°It¡¯s like lie detector tests. Innocent people never balk at taking them. It¡¯s the guilty ones who hem and haw and find excuses.¡±


    ¡°Like I said, if he¡¯s really the guy, I¡¯ll shake his hand and call him Dad myself.¡± Dale put his olives on my plate¡ªhe hated them and knew I loved them. ¡°I just¡­ I don¡¯t want Sara¡¯s hopes dashed. She¡¯s been through enough.¡±


    ¡°Aww.¡± I put my arm around him and rested my cheek against his shoulder for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re so good to me.¡±


    He kissed the top of my head.


    ¡°Oh, I forgot to tell you!¡± I sat up, looking at Dale and then over at Aimee and Matt. ¡°He¡¯s moving here!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Aimee exclaimed. ¡°Oh wow! For you?¡±


    ¡°No. He had a job interview here that day he saw my picture in the paper.¡± I laughed, shaking my head. ¡°That¡¯s why he came back today. To finalize things.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding.¡± Dale stared at me.


    ¡°Nope.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I swear, my life is one long string of weird coincidences.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Aimee snorted. ¡°It¡¯s not fate or anything.¡±


    ¡°Or God¡¯s plan,¡± Matt offered.


    ¡°Matt!¡± Aimee elbowed him. ¡°Ix-nay on the od-gay.¡±


    ¡°What? It could be fate but it couldn¡¯t be God?¡±


    ¡°You have to admit, it¡¯s all pretty weird.¡± Aimee didn¡¯t answer her new husband. ¡°You¡¯re obsessed with Tyler Vincent¡ªand you meet Dale Diamond, who happens to be Tyler Vincent¡¯s love child.¡±

 Page 16

    ¡°Shh!¡± I put my fingers to my lips. ¡°No one¡¯s supposed to know that.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay.¡± Aimee lowered her voice. ¡°But you fall in love with Dale, and he wins that Battle of the Bands and gets all super-famous.¡±


    ¡°Not yet.¡± Dale smirked. ¡°If I was super famous we wouldn¡¯t be able to sit in an Olive Garden without interruption.¡±


    Aimee ignored him. ¡°Then that goddamned photographer¡ªby the way, Dale, you should sue him. Take him to the cleaners. I won¡¯t buy one wedding picture from him.¡±


    ¡°Aimee, don¡¯t do that!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°They¡¯re your wedding photos!¡±


    ¡°My mom bought a bunch. I¡¯ll get hers when she¡¯s dead,¡± she replied. ¡°Anyway, one picture in the paper and poof! Your real dad finds you!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Hadn¡¯t I just been thinking the same thing earlier? ¡°It is weird.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fate.¡± Aimee insisted. ¡°Like meeting Matt. If you hadn¡¯t stayed after school that day¡ª¡±


    ¡°Washing desks with Dale,¡± I reminded her.


    ¡°Then I wouldn¡¯t have gone home with Carrie and Wendy. And I never would have met Carrie¡¯s brother.¡±


    ¡°What about the bee?¡± Dale asked. ¡°Was that fate too?¡±


    ¡°Bees are the devil.¡± Aimee shuddered involuntarily, glaring at him.


    ¡°Oh there¡¯s a devil, but no God.¡± Matt rolled his eyes, getting another breadstick out of the basket.


    ¡°Besides,¡± Aimee said, waving her hand in dismissal. ¡°Matt didn¡¯t fall in love with me because of the bee.¡±


    Matt swallowed and blinked. ¡°I kind of did.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Aimee clearly didn¡¯t like hearing that.


    ¡°Tread carefully here,¡± Dale interjected, wagging his finger at Matt. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see you guys on Divorce Court.¡±


    ¡°I just mean¡­ you were so cute, falling all over yourself trying to get away from that bee¡­¡± Matt stammered. He was started to turn red. ¡°And you know, I had to get out and rescue you.¡±


    ¡°And no guy can resist rescuing a damsel in distress,¡± I weighed in.


    ¡°But you wouldn¡¯t let me hear the end of it, Matt!¡± Aimee put her fork down. It clattered on her empty salad plate. ¡°Oh, Aimee, sit here BEEtween me and Carrie. Oh, Aimee, I do BEElieve I see your house. Oh Aimee¡ª¡±


    ¡°I told you, boys only tease you because they like you,¡± I reminded her. ¡°Mrs. Stowe was right about that.¡±


    ¡°BEEsides.¡± Matt leaned over and kissed her cheek. ¡°It was that stupid BEE who brought us together.¡±


    Aimee crossed her arms, not looking at him, but I could tell she was relenting.


    ¡°You should thank him for giving his life, because the way you jumped in my arms, girl. I was totally¡­¡± Matt stopped, searching for the word, turning her face to his. ¡°BEEguiled.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I give up.¡± She snorted, jerking her chin away and rolling her eyes.


    ¡°And then he asked you to marry him, so you were BEEtrothed.¡± I couldn¡¯t resist.


    ¡°The most BEEutiful bride to ever BEEcome a wife.¡± Matt winked at me.


    ¡°Awwww.¡± I raised my eyebrows at Aimee and she grinned.


    ¡°You¡¯re so mean to me.¡± She nudged him with her elbow, not so hard this time.


    ¡°You love it.¡± He grinned too, putting an arm over her shoulder and reaching into her lap his other hand. ¡°And I love you. And the little BEEn.¡±


    It took me a moment but I realized his hand was on her stomach.


    ¡°The little¡­ what?¡± Dale frowned, picking croutons out of his salad and putting them on mine.


    ¡°Bean? Little¡­ bean?¡± I sat straight up, gaping at them. ¡°Aimee, are you pregnant?¡±


    ¡°Shhh!¡± Aimee elbowed him again, harder this time. ¡°I wanted to wait until after dessert.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense,¡± Matt replied as Aimee dug through her purse. ¡°Those ultrasound photos could spoil anyone¡¯s appetite.¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± She laughed, handing a slippery piece of paper over to me.


    ¡°How far along?¡± I asked, looking at the grainy images. I couldn¡¯t see anything. I leaned over and let Dale see but he looked just as puzzled as I was.


    ¡°About three months.¡± She started pointing things out. ¡°This is the face. And this is the belly. These are the legs.¡±


    ¡°I told you.¡± Matt made a face. ¡°I think she¡¯s having an alien.¡±


    Poor Matt had to get tired of that elbow.


    ¡°So you were pregnant at the wedding.¡± My eyes widened.


    ¡°Just a little bit.¡± She looked sheepish. ¡°We¡¯re telling everyone else a different date. Because you know¡­ his mom and the whole Catholic thing.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯ll BEE damned.¡± Dale sat back and looked over at me.


    That made me snort Diet Coke.


    ¡°Which brings us back to God or Fate,¡± Matt reminded us.


    ¡°Or just plain coincidence,¡± I countered.


    ¡°Let¡¯s not BEElabor the point.¡± Aimee sighed.


    We all looked at her and cracked up.


    ¡°What? I can¡¯t do bee puns?¡± She looked at us like we were crazy, laughing like hyenas. Then she smiled. ¡°If you can¡¯t BEEt them, join them, right?¡±


    This time it was Dale who choked on my Diet Coke and I had to beat on his back with my fists to get him to stop. Finally, the waitress arrived with our food and I think we all must have been hungry because most of the conversation stopped except for the occasional, ¡°Pass me the salt,¡± or ¡°Oh my God, you have to try this!¡±


    Dessert was tiramisu. The boys didn¡¯t order any so Aimee and I split one, both of us moaning and sighing over its pure deliciousness.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t even make those sounds in bed,¡± Matt grumbled, tossing his napkin on the table.


    ¡°Then you¡¯re doing something wrong.¡± Dale laughed when I stuck a chocolate covered tongue out at him.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you¡¯re going to have a baby.¡± I met Aimee¡¯s eyes over our dessert.


    ¡°Well, you did it before I did,¡± she reminded me. ¡°I still remember putting that stuffed bear on your belly and watching her kick it off. ¡°


    ¡°Aimee!¡± Matt exclaimed, eyes wide. ¡°Jeez! She doesn¡¯t want to be reminded¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Matt.¡± I felt tears stinging my eyes but they weren¡¯t sad ones, exactly. I felt Dale¡¯s hand on my back, comforting. ¡°It¡¯s okay to talk about her. For a long time I didn¡¯t, but Aimee was there, she knows. If we talk about her, if she¡¯s remembered, then she still lives on, in some small way.¡±


    Besides, if you believed in fate or God, then you had to believe the bad stuff had a purpose too. And while my pregnancy had come about in a truly horrific way, I never once blamed the baby I was carrying.


    ¡°She was unbelievable,¡± Aimee said, meeting my eyes. ¡°Did the whole thing without drugs.¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t do a c-section?¡± Matt blinked in surprise.


    ¡°No, they induced me.¡± I felt Dale¡¯s hand rubbing my lower back. He was closer now. He¡¯d heard this story. I leaned my head against his shoulder.


    ¡°They said recovering from major surgery would be harder than labor,¡± Aimee told him. ¡°But I don¡¯t know. It sure looked like it hurt like hell. And she did it all without drugs!¡±


    ¡°It did hurt.¡± Although I couldn¡¯t tell them, any of them, even Dale, that it hurt far less than knowing the baby I was giving birth to wouldn¡¯t ever take a breath. ¡°But you can do it. I¡¯ll be there with you, just like you were for me.¡±


    Aimee picked up the last bit of tiramisu with her fork and put it to my lips. I took it, chewing and swallowing.


    ¡°Besides, the midwife said it was so hard for me because the baby wasn¡¯t helping,¡± I reminded her.


    ¡°The baby helps?¡± Matt gulped his beer.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I replied. ¡°The baby pushes with its feet and moves its head, arches its neck.¡±


    ¡°But Dharma didn¡¯t.¡± Aimee picked up her napkin, dabbing it at the corners of her eyes.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you named her,¡± Dale said softly.


    I still had a box of her things packed away I¡¯d still never shown him¡ªthe hospital bracelet they put on her, some booties, a hat. The nurses even took a lock of her hair for me¡ªfine blond fuzz. They took Polaroid pictures of me and Aimee holding her. My mother refused. She waited out in the lobby and asked, ¡°All done?¡± when I limped out. That¡¯s all she ever said about it.


    ¡°Dharma Naomi.¡± I half-smiled at Dale¡¯s eye-roll. ¡°I know, my Tyler Vincent obsession is showing again.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Matt looked at me, puzzled.


    ¡°Tyler Vincent¡¯s oldest daughter¡¯s name is Naomi,¡± I explained. ¡°I was pretty far gone on him at the time.¡±


    ¡°How was dessert, ladies?¡± the waitress asked, picking up our tiramisu plate. We¡¯d done everything but lick it clean.


    ¡°Great,¡± Aimee replied. ¡°Can you bring separate checks?¡±


    ¡°Nope, just bring one,¡± Dale said, digging his wallet out. ¡°I¡¯m buying.¡±


    ¡°Big spender.¡± I made a face at him. ¡°They paid him an advance but everything comes out of it. The recording sessions, the tour costs, everything.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll make it back on the tour.¡± Dale handed the waitress his card. ¡°Besides, we¡¯re still number one, remember?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re Dale Diamond!¡± The waitress looked at the card and then back to him. ¡°I¡¯ll Always Come For You is my favorite song!¡±


    ¡°You can come here us live,¡± Dale said with a smile. ¡°We¡¯re going on tour at the end of August. We¡¯re opening for Dark Wing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I love them too!¡±


    ¡°Oh for pete¡¯s sake.¡± I slid out of the booth, shaking my head at my rock star fianc¨¦ who was grinning from ear to ear. He still loved being stopped for autographs. ¡°Go ahead and sign autographs. I¡¯ll meet you in the car. Come on, Aimee, let¡¯s hit the ladies room.¡±


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Aimee asked when we were done using the facilities and standing at the mirror, fixing our make-up. ¡°I was really scared about telling you. I didn¡¯t want you to feel bad.¡±


    ¡°Bad?¡± I met her eyes in the mirror. ¡°Are you kidding me? I¡¯m over the moon for you!¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ll be there to hold my hand?¡± She reached out and squeezed mine.


    ¡°Every step of the way.¡±


    Dale and Matt were waiting for us in the lobby, which had mostly cleared out. I made it all the way to the car, even waving as Aimee and Matt passed us, before I burst into tears. Dale wrapped his arms around me, stroking my hair, just letting me sob against his shirt.


    ¡°It¡¯s so stupid,¡± I finally sniffed. ¡°Crying over a baby that never should have been conceived.¡±


    ¡°Well that wasn¡¯t her fault, or yours,¡± he reminded me softly, kissing my forehead.

 Page 17

    ¡°I remember thinking about keeping her,¡± I whispered in the dark heat of the car. Of course the stepbeast said I had to give it up. It was too late to abort the pregnancy by the time my mother told him about it. ¡°I thought if I could run away with her and start over¡­¡±


    I sat up, wiping my eyes. ¡°I wonder if that¡¯s what my mother did?¡±


    He cupped my face in his hands, wiping my tears with his thumbs. They just wouldn¡¯t stop falling.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything wrong.¡± His lips met mine, my salty tears pressed between us. ¡°None of it was your fault, Sara. Don¡¯t take it on.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± I did know. Twice-weekly sessions with Dr. Jarvis had cured me of that. I didn¡¯t blame myself for it anymore, at least not like I used to. ¡°I just miss her.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Dale held me, and it didn¡¯t occur to me until later that he never asked, ¡°Who? The baby or your mother?¡± Because of course, it didn¡¯t matter.


    I missed them both.


    CHAPTER TEN


    If I had to spend one more minute with Dale¡¯s sister, one of us was going to die.


    It wasn¡¯t just that Chrissy used my moisturizer in the bathroom without asking and left the lid off so it got hard. It wasn¡¯t just that she left her clothes and shoes at the bottom of the stairs so I tripped over them every single time I went upstairs. It wasn¡¯t just her fashion magazines all over the living room couch¡ªI couldn¡¯t count how many times I¡¯d sat down on a Cosmo¡ªand she painted her nails in there too, leaving her nail polish and red brush marks on the coffee table.


    All of those things made living with her annoying but not impossible. Even her incessant whining was tolerable if I tuned her out. It was the way she treated her father and brother that infuriated me to the point of no return. She hadn¡¯t said more than two words to me since she¡¯d arrived two weeks ago¡ªand I thought those had been, ¡°Hi, Sara.¡± She pretended I didn¡¯t exist, unless she was using me to make a point.


    ¡°You told Sara she could eat in the living room! Why can¡¯t I?¡± She¡¯d complained to John.


    ¡°Because Sara doesn¡¯t wipe her fingers on my couch or leave her ice cream sandwich wrappers in the cushions like a two-year-old.¡±


    Yeah, that didn¡¯t go over so well. John came home from his long teaching day on Tuesday¡ªthat was the night I cooked dinner and I was busy in the kitchen with no clue to what she was doing in the other room¡ªto find that she¡¯d purposely opened every single ice cream sandwich in the box and left them to melt on the living room couch.


    And when John called her downstairs from her room, she utterly denied it. I couldn¡¯t believe it. It was truly like we were living with a two-year-old, not a girl about to enter college. John demanded she clean it up and she called him names I didn¡¯t even know existed. Then she grabbed her purse and left the house.


    ¡°She¡¯s just testing me.¡± John sighed and sank into a kitchen chair.


    That¡¯s what he said when he had his new girlfriend, Debra, over to dinner one night and Chrissy threw the entire bowl of mashed potatoes on the floor because John left lumps in them. I¡¯d cleaned up the mashed potatoes¡ªjust like I cleaned up the sofa. Thankfully the kitchen floor was tile and the sofa was leather. But at the end of a very long two weeks I¡¯d spent going out of my way to try to make her feel more at home (which is what John said she needed) and mediating fights between brother and sister (Dale ignored her until she got right in his face) I was getting very tired of cleaning up Chrissy¡¯s messes.


    And still, I might have continued to tolerate it if they were just toddler outbursts, adult temper tantrums. But Chrissy had an axe to grind and she was shining up the blade, waiting for just the right moment to use it.


    She got into her father¡¯s face, screaming at him until spittle flew from her lips.


    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking coward, you know that?¡± She would shove him with both hands, trying to provoke him. ¡°You¡¯re a wimp. Fucking limp-dick! You couldn¡¯t keep your wife happy and she left you! You should be ashamed of yourself! I hate you! I wish you were dead!¡±


    And off she would go again, either to her room, slamming the door with such force the whole house shook, turning her heavy metal music up to deafening neighbors-likely-to-call-the-police volume, or she¡¯d head out the door, God only knows where. I was beginning to prefer the latter, because at least we were spared the noise.


    The strangest part was, an hour later, she was back, sweet as could be, pretending like nothing happened. In fact, if you mentioned it, she would get teary-eyed and upset, as if she was the one who had been hurt. And John would put his arms around her and hug her and she would ask for something¡ªmoney to go to the mall, a leather bomber jacket, a fifty dollar pair of shoes¡ªand he would give it to her.


    I had asked Dale if that¡¯s how it had always been with his sister.


    ¡°No.¡± He had stared up at the ceiling, arms behind his head. ¡°I mean, she was always a little spoiled. But not like this. I don¡¯t know, maybe my mother poisoned her against my dad.¡±


    It was a reasonable explanation. I¡¯d met Dale¡¯s mother when she dropped Chrissy off. We all went out to dinner at Red Lobster¡ªChrissy¡¯s favorite¡ªand Dale¡¯s mother had done nothing but talk about how she was making a killing in the real estate market. It was the only time I¡¯d seen Chrissy be relatively quiet and behave, probably because her mother corrected her every few minutes.


    Chrissy, sit up straight.


    Chrissy, don¡¯t use your fingers.


    Chrissy, your napkin goes in your lap.


    No dessert for you, Chrissy.


    I said no.


    And she¡¯d say those things right in the middle of a sentence, then going on like they¡¯d never happened. It was no wonder Chrissy acted like a child. Her mother treated her like one.


    It was early on a warm August Monday morning that Chrissy really crossed her brother¡¯s line. And Dale had a very long fuse, but when it reached the end, the explosion was formidable.


    Dale loved sleeping with the windows open, and I liked waking up to a gentle breeze blowing the curtains over our head. I woke up first, a full half an hour before the alarm. Dale hated alarms and refused to use one. I¡¯d searched high and low for an alarm that would wake us up with gentle sounds like ocean waves or crickets so they wouldn¡¯t disturb him. And if Dale had to be up, well, I was his human alarm clock.


    Today he didn¡¯t have anywhere to go¡ªthe band had been practicing hard for the tour, getting together four times a week¡ªand I thought about going to take a shower and just letting him sleep, since I had appointments to keep. But he was on his back, sheet tangled around his waist, one arm thrown over his head, the other resting on his chest, looking so tantalizing¡ªand I did have an extra half hour.


    I loved watching him sleep. He was so sweet and peaceful, his mouth slightly open, the first peek of the sun on the horizon kissing his cheeks and those full, pouty lips, turning them a rosy color. My gaze paused at that sexy little dimple in his chin, the one that made him look so much like Tyler. I had marveled about how much he looked like Tyler, even before I knew.


    His chest hair was sparse and widespread. My gaze dipped lower, drinking in those glorious abs. He worked his ass off to keep them, doing crunches every night. But it paid off when he tore off his shirt mid-concert and tossed it into the crowd. The girls went insane. Not that I blamed them.


    His navel was rimmed with dark hair, a fact everyone knew because girls all over the country already had him pasted to their walls. The one in Tiger Beat, a full-size foldout, reminded me of a Playboy centerfold¡ªonly this one was for thirteen year old girls. A shirtless, barefoot Dale with his thumbs hooked in the waistband of acid-washed jeans, pulling that inexplicably sexy studded belt down on his hips, revealing his lower abdominal muscles, those firm, external obliques making a delicious indentation on either side of his body like an arrow pointing south.


    Dale had done that photo shoot on one of his many trips away during the past two years, so girls everywhere could put him on their walls, at just the right height, and stand tiptoe so they could look into those dark, animal eyes and practice kissing on his pouty lips.


    But those pouty lips were mine. I was the only girl in the world who got to kiss them for real and knew just how soft they were. Listening to the deep, even sound of his breathing, I let my fingers lightly follow the dark line of hair that traveled down from his navel. I heard his breath catch when I slipped my hand under the sheet. He was already at half-mast and it didn¡¯t take much stimulation before he was tenting the sheet.


    He moaned softly when I stopped teasing and really started moving my hand rhythmically up and down his shaft. When I lifted my head to look at his face, his eyes were half-open, lips parted, and I managed to elicit another moan from him when I rubbed my thumb back and forth over the head.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± I whispered. We always whispered now and tried to keep it down because Chrissy was right next door. Before she moved in, I¡¯d felt less inhibited because John¡¯s room was on the first floor, on the other side of the house.


    ¡°Very good.¡± His voice was hoarse from sleep. I felt his hand moving in my hair, sliding down the curve of my back to lift the t-shirt I¡¯d worn to bed. I wasn¡¯t wearing any panties. ¡°Wanna go for a ride with me?¡±


    ¡°I wanna go for a ride on you.¡± I grinned, shoving the sheet aside and admiring my handiwork for a moment¡ªstraight up hard and ready for me¡ªbefore straddling him.


    Dale¡¯s eyes lit up when I peeled my t-shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. His hands went instantly to my breasts and my nipples hardened in response. I stroked him against my lower belly, anticipating the feel of him inside of me. Holding off was such sweet torture. But Dale had other plans.


    ¡°Come here.¡± He grabbed my hips, seating me easily over his face, his tongue already exploring.


    I gasped, leaning against the windowsill, the curtains fluttering around me as Dale drank me in. Our room was at the back of the house and the window overlooked over a field of tall unmowed grass and wildflowers. There was no one to see me as I rolled my hips and arched, nails raking the window screen when he pushed me over the edge with the slick lash of his tongue. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, hanging onto the window ledge, my thighs trembling with the force of my orgasm.


    ¡°Mmmm.¡± Dale wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as I slid down his body.¡±Breakfast of Champions.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re so bad.¡± But I was smiling as I caught his hard shaft between us, rocking my hips so he parted that slippery seam, so wet from his mouth.


    ¡°Taste.¡±


    Slipping a hand behind my head, he brought me down for a long, hot kiss. I moaned, rocking on top of him, the sensation almost too intense as his hips began to move, seeking entrance. Then his hands moved down my sides, grabbing and guiding me, rolling my hips forward so he was right there, poised for entry.


    I moaned as he lifted his pelvis, his cock parting my labia, sinking slowly into my flesh. Savoring the sensation, I held perfectly still, my eyes locked with his. Then he began to move, rolling his hips, not sliding out all the way, just making slow, short, easy strokes, in and out. He knew exactly how to drive me crazy. I cried out when he moved one hand off my hip, to focus between my thighs, thumb rubbing me in fast little circles.

 Page 18

    ¡°Shh,¡± he urged, pulling me down to him, kissing me quiet as he thrust up into my flesh. I couldn¡¯t help rocking with him, feeling the cool morning breeze caressing our sweat-dampened skin. Dale was so warm and solid, I clung to him, burying my face in his neck, my breath coming hot and fast. His hands were back on my hips, rocking me against him with every upward thrust. I felt how swollen he was inside of me, ready to burst. And I was too.


    ¡°Oh sweetheart,¡± he moaned, thumbs digging into the wings of my pelvis. ¡°I¡¯m so close.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I urged, squeezing his thick, pistoning flesh with my muscles, massaging him. That elicited a low growl from his throat and Dale rolled me quickly over onto my back, parting my thighs with his and rutting deep into me.


    ¡°Yes!¡± I cried, the sight of him poised above me, arms thick ropes of muscle, belly undulating as he drove himself into me again and again. ¡°Oh God, yes, Dale! Do it! Harder!¡±


    I had forgotten everything but him, seeing the sweet look of pleasure on his face, the way he worked to hold himself back. I knew he was waiting for me, but he didn¡¯t have to¡ªjust seeing him like that sent me flying. My orgasm was so sudden and intense I screamed, crying out and thrusting my hips up. Dale cried out too and I felt the exquisite, hot pulse of his cock as he came, emptying himself completely into me, the sensation almost enough to send me over again.


    He groaned and finally collapsed onto me. I loved the weight of him and welcomed it, kissing him softly and pulling the sheet and the comforter back up over our damp skin. The breeze felt good but I was shivering. Dale nuzzled my neck and my ear, his breath returning slowly to normal. His lips moved over my flesh, kissing me here and there, whispering words I could barely hear.


    ¡°Could you two shut the hell up!¡± Chrissy threw the door open and it banged against the wall. ¡°Can¡¯t you keep that little bitch quiet?¡±


    I was too stunned to move but Dale reacted instantly, grabbing the sheet around his waist with one hand and striding to the door. I grabbed the edge of the comforter and pulled it up to my chin.


    ¡°Get out!¡± Dale grabbed the handle, swinging the door closed, but Chrissy was in the way.


    ¡°Fuck you.¡± Chrissy was ready for battle. I could tell. Even through the crack in the door¡ªher knee was blocking the way, so Dale couldn¡¯t close it completely. I scrambled around for clothes¡ªt-shirt, jeans. I didn¡¯t even bother with panties or a bra.


    ¡°Move.¡± Dale¡¯s voice was calm and firm. He¡¯d regained his control after being so surprised by her entrance. I was going to have to ask John if we could put a lock¡ªand maybe even a chain¡ªon our bedroom door. I found socks and tugged them on too.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re really something, don¡¯t you?¡± Chrissy sneered. I saw her face in the shadows. She was a very pretty girl, long dark hair and blue eyes. She had her brother¡¯s features, only softer and more rounded. But she could make herself ugly in an instant¡ªit was like some magic trick, a strange illusion. ¡°Mr. Perfect. Mr. Rockstar. You wouldn¡¯t be anything without him, you know that?¡±


    I knew she was baiting him, just like she baited her father. I think they were both too blind to see it. John, I knew, would never take that sort of bait. He realized, somehow, that what Chrissy needed was not the negative attention she seemed to be asking for. It went deeper than that. Dale, though¡ªDale¡¯s fuse was long, but she¡¯d been wearing him down for two weeks and the whole thing was about to explode. I could feel it crackling in the air, like electricity.


    ¡°Dale, I have to go.¡± It was early yet, but a good enough excuse. I ran a hand through my hair, grabbing my purse. I was small enough to insert myself between him and the door. ¡°I¡¯m meeting Ben for coffee and then I have to drop off those drawings at work.¡±


    He blinked down at me, trying to focus. I knew she¡¯d gotten to him and she knew it too. She just wouldn¡¯t stop.


    ¡°Go.¡± I pushed him back. ¡°Go back to bed. I¡¯ll see you in a few hours.¡±


    He took a step back from the door and I was relieved. I¡¯d broken the spell. Whatever hold she had over him was fading, even though the words still kept spilling from her mouth.


    ¡°Oh my God, you are so fucking pussy-whipped!¡± Chrissy called as I slipped out into the hall with her, closing our bedroom door behind me. It felt like I was stepping into a gladiator ring with a lion. Or maybe a dragon. Up until now, she¡¯d ignored me, but with Dale safe on the other side of the door, I knew she was going to try to use me to bait him.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t love you, you know.¡± She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall with a smug smile on her face. She was still in her pajamas¡ªred silk, top and bottoms. ¡°He just feels sorry for you.¡±


    It was hard to believe words could hurt that much. Chrissy¡¯s words came attached with razor blades. I tried ignoring it, starting to take a step around her, but she moved with me, blocking the way to the stairs.


    ¡°Poor pathetic little Sara. You poor-me¡¯d your way into free room and board and a rich rock star boyfriend. Do you really think he¡¯s going to marry you?¡± She laughed. ¡°He can¡¯t love anyone. He can¡¯t see anything unless it¡¯s a mirror. That¡¯s all you are. A great big mirror.¡±


    ¡°Get out of the way.¡± I took a step to the left but she did too.


    ¡°Oh Dale, you¡¯re so wonderful and famous and everyone loves you!¡± She mocked, yelling this so Dale was sure to hear her. ¡°He¡¯ll never be Tyler Vincent and he knows it. All he¡¯ll ever be is some cheap, knock-off imitation of the real thing. And that¡¯s the only reason he keeps you around, sweetheart.¡±


    She used that term of endearment with emphasis and I wondered how long she¡¯d been listening at our door this morning. I was trembling inside and my body was shutting down. System overload. I knew the feeling¡ªit used to happen when the stepbeast got like this. I was having flashbacks, sensory memories of recoiling, withdrawing into my shell as far as I could to hide from the oncoming disaster.


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Dale opened the door¡ªhe had jeans on, but no shirt¡ªand strode toward her. I, of course, was in the way. I turned and pushed him back, both hands on his chest.


    ¡°Dale, no.¡± I glanced back at Chrissy. She was smiling. It was a truly malevolent smile.


    ¡°Always has to try to prove himself,¡± Chrissy went on. She sounded downright gleeful. ¡°Because he knows he¡¯ll never be good enough. Never as good as Daddy.¡±


    ¡°Chrissy, I swear to God¡­¡± Dale said through clenched teeth, hands curled into fists at his sides. He was looking past me straight at her and I felt like I was holding a tiger by the tail.


    ¡°Oh Sara, let him go. You¡¯re going to have to let him go eventually.¡±


    ¡°Dale, come on, let¡¯s go downstairs.¡± I tried to get him to focus on me instead of her. I tried to ignore the searing pain of her words. I just wanted to take Dale and escape. Of course, she was between us and the escape route.


    ¡°Sara, you¡¯re a one-trick pony.¡± She was right behind me now, whispering her words. But she was looking right at her brother. ¡°He only wanted you because you chose him over Tyler. And I¡¯m sorry, but you can only do that little stunt once. After that, you¡¯re useless.¡±


    I turned and pushed her. Chrissy stumbled back, surprised, catching herself from falling by steadying herself against the wall. I heard John stirring downstairs. We must have woken him. He was calling but sounded far away, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Bitch!¡± Chrissy snarled at me.


    I think they both lunged at the same time. And I was in the middle. I screamed when Dale made a fist and pulled his arm back. I knew he was going to hit her¡ªand she was smiling, triumphant. It was just what she wanted. Oh the publicity that would bring down on our heads. Greg would be furious. And Dale¡¯s career would be over before it began.


    ¡°No!¡± I cried, turning to stop him, but it was too late.


    His fist connected with the side of my cheek with a force that shook my teeth in my head. My ear was ringing and I couldn¡¯t keep my balance. I tried, my hands groping the smooth hallway wall, but I fell, moaning softly, looking up to see Dale¡¯s horrified expression, fists now at his sides. And I heard Chrissy laughing, delighted.


    ¡°Sara! Oh God, Sara,¡± he croaked, kneeling beside me but I was already scrambling to my feet. I felt his hand on my calf for one, brief moment, but I was fast when I needed to be. I flew down the stairs, grabbed my shoes on my way out, and I was already pulling away from the house when I saw Dale burst out the front door, calling after me.


    But I was gone.


    CHAPTER ELEVEN


    I was early to Cuppa Joes and was glad for the time to put my head back together. I went to the bathroom first to wash my face. My eyes were red from crying. I knew Chrissy¡¯s words weren¡¯t the truth, not the deep, real truth¡ªbut they had enough truth in them to sting. I was a mess and I looked it. I hadn¡¯t even showered. And I had the beginnings of a pretty good shiner under my left eye. I peed and ran a comb through my hair and put on what I hoped was enough makeup to cover any bruising. Feeling slightly better, I went back out into the coffee shop.


    I picked a table in the corner, hoping to hide until Ben arrived, but when I looked up as the bell on the door rang, I saw Carrie and Wendy coming in. I didn¡¯t wave to them but they spotted me anyway, making a beeline for my table.


    ¡°Hey, what are you doing here without your other half?¡± Wendy slid into the seat across from me. Carrie grabbed a chair, turning it backwards and straddling it.


    ¡°Oh I¡¯m just meeting a friend.¡±


    ¡°Is that code for having an affair?¡±Carrie raised her eyebrows at me.


    ¡°No!¡± I blushed. I hadn¡¯t told many people about Ben yet. Aimee and Matt. Josh, at work. And John¡ªbut I¡¯d asked him not to tell Chrissy. Why give her any more ammunition than she already had? ¡°I¡¯m actually meeting my¡­ Dad.¡±


    Wendy sat back in her chair and Carrie did a double-take. I realized they must be thinking of the stepbeast, so I had to redirect them with an explanation. While I was telling the strange, coincidental story of Ben finding me because of the picture in the paper, the waitress came over and we all ordered¡ªcoffee for them, hot chocolate for me. Plus muffins and scones and croissants.


    ¡°And he moved here?¡± Wendy shook her head, incredulous.


    ¡°Well, he was already moving here,¡± I explained.


    ¡°Makes it even weirder,¡± Carrie said through a mouth full of blueberry muffin. ¡°Did you tell Aimee?¡±


    I nodded, blowing across the top of my hot chocolate. It lived up to its name and was always too hot to drink right away. I wondered if Aimee had told them her big news, but my question was answered by Carrie¡¯s next statement.


    ¡°That poor girl is never going to make it to the end of her pregnancy. My mother is going to be the death of her.¡± Carrie had succeeded in eating the entire top of her muffin and was now peeling the paper off the sides.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

 Page 19

    ¡°The minute Aimee told the family she was pregnant, my mom started watching what she eats like a hawk. She¡¯s such a fatphobe.¡±


    ¡°Homophobe too,¡± Wendy interjected, sipping her coffee, a croissant in her other hand.


    ¡°But she¡¯s pregnant,¡± I interjected. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to get fat when you¡¯re pregnant!¡±


    ¡°You should hear my mom.¡± Carrie rolled her eyes. ¡°¡¯You don¡¯t want to use this as an excuse to eat junk, dear.¡¯ I keep telling her to knock it off but every time I turn around it¡¯s all, ¡®No ice cream for you, we don¡¯t want any fat babies in this family!¡¯¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± I put down my hot chocolate and decided to work on my scone.


    ¡°Just because we¡¯re all long and lean she thinks the whole world should be that way.¡± Carrie put the entire bottom of the muffin into her mouth. When she chewed, she looked like a chipmunk.


    ¡°Poor Aimee.¡± I made a mental note to call her. Our senior year had been the perfect storm of disaster. I had to drop out because of my pregnancy, and then Aimee had gone into treatment for her eating disorder. I was so grateful they let her come when I went to the hospital or I wouldn¡¯t have had anyone there with me at all. I knew Aimee was sensitive about her weight¡ªshe probably always would be¡ªand it sounded like her new mother-in-law was pushing all her buttons.


    ¡°¡±Okay, done.¡± Carrie gulped the rest of her coffee. ¡°Are you sure you brought the shot records, Wen?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure.¡± Wendy rolled her eyes, still nibbling on her croissant.


    ¡°Shot records?¡± I asked, finally able to sip my hot chocolate.


    ¡°We got a puppy.¡± Carrie grinned. ¡°It¡¯s our moving in together present to ourselves.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re moving in together?¡± I exclaimed. That was huge¡ªCarrie¡¯s mother didn¡¯t know she was gay and Wendy¡¯s parents¡ªwell they didn¡¯t care if she was much of anything.


    ¡°We¡¯re ¡®roommates,¡¯¡± Wendy said, making air quotes with her fingers.


    ¡°Come on, I don¡¯t want to leave him in the car too long.¡± Carrie was practically bouncing in her chair.


    ¡°I¡¯m not done!¡± Wendy protested.


    ¡°What kind of puppy?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Boxer.¡± Wendy slung her purse forward and opened the top flap. ¡°Here¡¯s a picture.¡±


    ¡°Awwww!¡± Of course he was adorable. ¡°What a darling little puppy!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s going to be dead little puppy if we leave him much longer.¡± Carrie snapped her fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s the one who insisted we stop,¡± Wendy said to me, rolling her eyes. ¡°Now she¡¯s in a big hurry.¡±


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s my dad.¡± It still felt a little strange referring to Ben as ¡°my dad.¡± I called him Ben when we were together¡ªif I called him anything. I tried not to let it come up.


    ¡°That¡¯s your dad?¡± Carrie raised her pierced eyebrow. The pink streaks were back in her hair again. ¡°Niiiiice. If I swung the other way¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up.¡± Wendy put her croissant down, gulping the rest of her coffee. ¡°Let¡¯s give Sara and her dad some privacy.¡±


    ¡°About time!¡± Carrie waggled her fingers at me and I waved back as they left, passing Ben on the way.


    ¡°Friends of yours?¡± he asked, sliding into the seat across from me. He was wearing a suit, ready for work.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I watched them walk past the front window and disappear around the corner. ¡°From high school.¡±


    ¡°Whoa, what happened to your eye?¡± Ben frowned, reaching over to touch my cheek. I winced¡ªit hurt. He looked at his thumb where he¡¯d touched the bruise. ¡°Makeup?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I covered my cheek. I¡¯d forgotten. ¡°I¡­ stupid, I was on a stool in the kitchen and I slipped. Hit it on the edge of a cupboard.¡±


    ¡°Hm.¡± He nodded, still frowning.


    How many times had I heard my mother give excuses like that? I¡¯d learned from the master.


    ¡°So how is the new place?¡± I asked, changing the subject. His company had moved him up from Florida¡ªthey even packed it all!¡ªbut his house hadn¡¯t been ready so they set him up in an apartment temporarily. Now he was finally moving into his permanent house.


    ¡°Great,¡± he replied, finally smiling. ¡°You¡¯ll have to come by and see for yourself. Bring the boyfriend.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡± It had been weeks and it still seemed surreal. Sometimes I forgot that the man sitting across from me was my biological father. Dale was still wary, but he knew I was talking to Ben, that we met for coffee at least once a week. Ben knew Dale was suspicious and he had gone, without any prompting, and had a DNA blood test done. It was very expensive, but he hadn¡¯t asked for a dime.


    When I triumphantly told Dale that, he said, ¡°I hope he isn¡¯t going to try to show you fake test results. Maybe we should do another one?¡±


    When Ben agreed to have his blood drawn again for a separate test, Dale said, ¡°I hope he¡¯s not long gone before these results come back.¡±


    I could never win!


    And I knew Dale was avoiding spending any time with Ben, refusing to get to know him. I was ready to lock them both in a room until they stopped the nonsense. Well, until Dale did. Ben had gone out of his way to be friendly and inclusive. It just made Dale look even more ridiculous.


    ¡°Hey, can I ask you something?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± I tore off the triangle at end of my scone, dunking it into my hot chocolate before putting it into my mouth.


    ¡°I have a proposition for you.¡± He cleared his throat, reaching under the table for his briefcase. I watched as he opened it, taking out a manila folder. He set it on the table and slid it over toward me.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked, even though I didn¡¯t want to. I¡¯d swallowed my scone but it felt like it was still stuck in my throat. A little voice in my head whispered, ¡°Dale was right all along,¡± but I tried to ignore it.


    ¡°Do you know much about the computers? The internet?¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± I shook my head, still looking at the folder on the table.


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s this new thing¡­ I guess it¡¯s not really a thing and it¡¯s not actually that new. It¡¯s like a place, except it isn¡¯t real.¡± Ben laughed nervously. ¡°I¡¯m not explaining it well. Listen, I build computers. That¡¯s what I do. You can do a lot of things with computers and some day they¡¯re going to be an integral part of our lives. They¡¯re going to be like TVs. Everyone will have one.¡±


    ¡°You think so?¡± I frowned. Just this year the library had put computers in. They had card catalogs still, but you could also look books up on their computers. I hadn¡¯t used them much. It felt too science fiction to me.


    ¡°One of the things people can do with computers is talk to each other.¡±


    ¡°Like on the phone?¡±


    ¡°No. You¡¯re typing to each other, not talking,¡± Ben explained. ¡°But the thing about it is that you can talk to anyone, from anywhere. You can be here in New Jersey and they can be in Bangladesh.¡±


    ¡°Weird. Why would I want to talk to a stranger?¡±


    ¡°Well, say there¡¯s something going on in the news or entertainment. Something interesting. People could talk about it together.¡±


    ¡°You mean type about it?¡± I snorted. ¡°I type with two fingers.¡±


    ¡°I know it sounds weird.¡± Ben flushed. ¡°But it¡¯s coming. And I have a friend¡ªwell, it¡¯s a business associate, really. He¡¯s come up with an idea that¡¯s going to connect people like that. So we can all talk to each other.¡±


    ¡°Well you have to have a computer first,¡± I reminded him. The last time I¡¯d seen a computer, outside of the library, was as a freshman in high school. They offered Computers 101 and we wrote code in something called Basic. All I remembered was I got a C in it and had written a program that asked your name, your age, your gender and your favorite candy bar.


    ¡°It¡¯s new,¡± Ben agreed. ¡°But we¡¯re going to double, maybe even triple, our investment money.¡±


    ¡°Our investment money?¡± I glanced at the folder again. ¡°But I don¡¯t have any¡­¡±


    Dale was right. Dale was right all along.


    ¡°I know you said you were worried about Dale and the money he¡¯s spending,¡± Ben said. ¡°Look, Sara, I want you to have a comfortable future. I don¡¯t want you to have to struggle and paint designs on t-shirts for the rest of your life.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t exactly accurate, but I decided not to quibble about what I did at the print shop.


    ¡°The music business is tough. I mean, when I was a kid, there were tons of bands and music artists making records. But only a handful of them are still around. What happens to them?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Most of them go broke.¡± He leaned back in his chair, briefcase balanced in his lap. ¡°Because they spent all their money on booze and dope. They started rolling in the money and thought the money fountain would go on forever. But eventually the money fountain stops.¡±


    ¡°So you¡­ what? Want money?¡± I could barely get that last word out.


    ¡°It¡¯s an investment,¡± Ben explained. ¡°You¡¯d get your money back. Plus more.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s not my money. You know that.¡± I picked up the folder but I didn¡¯t open it. ¡°I can ask Dale about it.¡±


    I had no intention of doing any such thing. But I didn¡¯t tell him that.


    ¡°Listen, I have to get to the shop,¡± I said, standing and slinging my purse over my shoulder. ¡°I have some drawings to drop off.¡±


    ¡°Okay sure.¡± Ben stood too. ¡°Listen, I can come by and talk to Dale about it. Explain it better. You can even come with me to work and see how the prototype works. He¡¯s got a brilliant marketing plan. It will be a household name inside a year, a guarantee it.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± It wasn¡¯t okay. Nothing was okay. This man, who claimed to be my father¡ªnow I was doubting everything he¡¯d told me¡ªdidn¡¯t find me because he wanted to meet his daughter. He saw ¡°rock star¡± and thought ¡°investment money.¡±


    Dale was right.


    Fuck.


    Ben didn¡¯t say anything as I started to walk away.


    I turned back and asked, ¡°What¡¯s this thing called?¡±


    ¡°He wants to call it Americans Online,¡± Ben replied. ¡°I think we should think more globally, but I¡¯m not the guy in charge.¡±


    ¡°Stupid name.¡± I made a face. ¡°See you later.¡±


    I managed to make it all the way to work. I even got the drawings from my case in the back seat and turned them in to Dave without too much trouble. It was in the print shop parking lot it hit me like a two-by-four in the gut. I didn¡¯t make it back to my car. I sobbed and sobbed, collapsed against the side of the building, hugging my knees.

 Page 20

    ¡°Sara?¡± Josh. I looked up, blinking at him through prisms. The early morning sun was bright and it was already warm. It was going to be a scorcher. ¡°Sara, are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± I lied, wiping away tears and snot and make-up with the tail end of my t-shirt. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Hey come on.¡± He put his back against the wall and sank down next to me. ¡°You can tell me. Wow, what happened to your eye?¡±


    ¡°Dale punched me in the face.¡± I gave a little laugh. ¡°And that¡¯s been the best part of my day so far.¡±


    ¡°He what?¡± His muscles tensed.


    ¡°It was an accident.¡± I sniffed, wiping my face again, this time with my hands. ¡°He was trying to hit his sister.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Josh kept asking that, like he couldn¡¯t quite believe what I was saying.


    ¡°And Ben¡­ the guy who got in touch when he saw me in the paper? He said he was my father. And I¡­ I believed him.¡±


    I swallowed past the lump in my throat.


    ¡°And all he really wants is money.¡± I felt the sobs rising again and couldn¡¯t stop them. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with me, Josh?¡±


    He shook his head, looking as confused as I felt.


    ¡°Why doesn¡¯t anyone ever want me? For me? What¡¯s wrong with me?¡±


    ¡°Oh Sara.¡± He put his arm over my shoulder and I leaned into him, letting him comfort me. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with you. Nothing. I promise.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could believe you.¡±


    ¡°What would convince you?¡± I felt his hand stroking my hair, my shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re beautiful. You¡¯re smart. You¡¯re an amazing artist. You¡¯re beautiful.¡±


    ¡°You said the last one twice.¡± I looked up at him, smiling.


    ¡°I know.¡± He turned his head toward me and I realized at that moment how close we were. I went to move away but it was too late. Josh was kissing me, holding me so close it was hard to breath. His lips were thin and strange against mine, foreign, an affront to my sense.


    ¡°Josh, no,¡± I gasped, managing to push him away. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°I just thought¡­ you said no one wanted you.¡± His gaze moved from my face, traveling south. ¡°I want you.¡±


    No. No. this couldn¡¯t be happening.


    Dale was right.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to¡­¡± I swallowed, feeling dizzy, but I stood anyway. ¡°Go. I need to go.¡±


    That was, of course, when Dale showed up in John¡¯s car. I recognized the Taurus as it pulled into the lot and saw Dale behind the wheel. His eyes darkened when he saw who I was with. Josh was on his feet, next to me, standing too close.


    ¡°Thanks for letting me cry on you.¡±


    ¡°Any time.¡± Josh pulled me into a hug, his arms lingering around me even as I tried to free myself. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re going to be all right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Dale was already out of the car. He hadn¡¯t even put a shirt on. He was still barefoot, wearing just a pair of jeans. And his belt. He¡¯d stopped to put on his belt.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been driving all over looking for you.¡± Dale glared at Josh but I¡¯d met him halfway to the car and guided him back toward it. He looked back over his shoulder at Josh. ¡°What the hell is he doing here?¡±


    ¡°He works here, remember?¡± I looked over and saw Josh going back into the store.


    ¡°Right.¡± Dale¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t leave the store front. ¡°And I¡¯m sure he jumped at the chance to ¡®comfort¡¯ you, didn¡¯t he? Did he come on to you?¡±


    Then he looked at me. I think it was the first time he really saw me since he¡¯d blazed into the parking lot. His eyes softened and his brow knitted.


    ¡°Did I do that?¡± He touched my cheek. I winced and so did he. ¡°Oh Sara. I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± I let him pull me into his arms. The comfort I found there was like nothing else. Josh¡¯s arms around me had been nice, but not like this. Dale¡¯s arms around me felt like something clicked into place. We fit together like two puzzle pieces. In so many ways, good and bad, we fit together.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t crying about that.¡± I touched my cheek and laughed. ¡°I told Josh, that was the highlight of my day so far.¡±


    ¡°You told him?¡± Dale groaned, gathering me closer. ¡°What do you mean it was the highlight of your day?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in the car.¡± I didn¡¯t want to be anywhere near this place when I told him. ¡°Come on.¡±


    ¡°What about yours?¡± Dale asked as he opened the passenger door for me, nodding to my Dodge Dart.


    ¡°We¡¯ll come get it later.¡± I got in, waiting for him to get in too. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Where to?¡± He put the key in the ignition.


    ¡°Just drive.¡± I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes. My face was hot and swollen from crying. My heart was shattered into a million pieces, but it was still beating in my chest.


    I felt Dale¡¯s hand slipping into mine and opened my eyes, turning my head to look at him.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hit her, did you?¡±


    ¡°My sister?¡± Dale snorted. ¡°No. I wanted to. But no. Not after you¡­¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I gave a satisfied nod. ¡°It¡¯s what she wants.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Dale squeezed my hand. ¡°You know¡­ the things she said¡­¡±


    I winced again, and this time it wasn¡¯t because my face hurt. Thinking about what Chrissy had said made me nauseous.


    ¡°The thing is. Everything she said. It was about her. Not about you and me.¡± He took his eyes off the road for a minute to look at me. ¡°You know that, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I shook my head. It still hurt too much to not take it all very literally.


    ¡°She¡¯s keeping a huge secret.¡± Dale sighed, taking a left at the light. ¡°And that¡¯s not easy. I know.¡±


    I knew too.


    ¡°And she¡¯s in so much pain. All she wants is for Tyler to acknowledge her. I accepted a long time ago that wasn¡¯t going to happen. But that¡¯s what she really wants.¡± I looked over and saw his eyes gleaming. Tears? He¡¯d never talked about his sister this way. ¡°So I blamed her for choosing him. You know, Chrissy and I were close, once. Before.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know. The way he talked about her, with so much anger and hatred, I never would have guessed.


    ¡°But she chose him.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Just like my mother.¡±


    ¡°Instead of you,¡± I whispered. He¡¯d been abandoned not only by his mother but his sister too. And I knew Chrissy was right, in a small way. There were small bits of truth in what she said, wrapped up in anger and pain, sugar coated razor blades. Dale was trying to prove himself.


    ¡°That¡¯s how it felt at the time,¡± he agreed and I actually saw a tear slip down his cheek.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± I wanted to reach over and pull him into my arms, but he was driving¡ªbesides, there was something about it, the car moving, both of us facing forward, that made it easier to say these things.


    ¡°Is that why I was such a challenge?¡± I asked. My voice cracked and even as I asked, I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to know the answer. ¡°You wanted me to choose you instead of Tyler?¡±


    Dale was quiet. There was just the sound of the tires on pavement. Houses slipped by us.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± he said finally. ¡°Chrissy has a way of seeing into people like that. And she¡¯s usually right. Maybe, subconsciously, that¡¯s why I chose you.¡±


    ¡°And I chose you because you were like Tyler.¡±


    Dale turned the car into an empty parking lot I recognized, pulling into a spot and putting the car in park. He¡¯d taken us to Iselin Academy, the place we¡¯d first met. Where I¡¯d been swept away by the new guy, the one who looked so much like rock star Tyler Vincent. Where Dale had found a girl so obsessed with the man who had ruined his life, it would be the ultimate triumph to sway her allegiance.


    ¡°I¡¯m probably more like him than I want to admit.¡± He leaned back, thumbs hooked over his belt. ¡°The more I try not to be like him, the more it seems I am¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I countered. ¡°You¡¯re not a liar. You haven¡¯t hurt people like he has.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am.¡± Dale took a deep breath, closing his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m keeping his secret. So is Chrissy. And it¡¯s eating us both alive.¡±


    ¡°So tell,¡± I urged. ¡°John won¡¯t love you any less.¡±


    ¡°Chrissy¡¯s right.¡± He looked over at me with a small, sad smile. ¡°I¡¯m selfish. I¡¯m keeping the secret for my own selfish reasons. You know what would happen if it came out that I was Tyler Vincent¡¯s son?¡±


    I nodded. Greg Richer had harped enough about public image for me to understand what it would do to Dale¡¯s career. Even if it wasn¡¯t a scandal, it would mean a lifetime of Dale being compared to his father, which was the last thing in the world he wanted to have happen.


    ¡°You were right,¡± I told him. ¡°You were right about Josh. He tried to kiss me.¡±


    I left out the part about the actual kissing. Dale¡¯s reaction was strong enough to an attempted kiss.


    ¡°I knew it!¡± He pounded his fist on the steering wheel and I sank back in my seat.


    ¡°And you were right about Ben,¡± I choked. ¡°He asked me for money today. Some¡­ I don¡¯t know, computer investment? Made it sound like he was concerned for my future or something, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh Sara.¡± Dale put his arms around me. ¡°Damnit. I didn¡¯t want to be right about Ben. Or Josh, for that matter. He better keep his damned hands off you.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± I rested my cheek against his chest. ¡°I¡¯m going on tour with you.¡±


    ¡°Because of Josh? Because of Ben?¡±


    ¡°Because I love you.¡± I lifted my head to look into his eyes. ¡°And I know you love me. Chrissy may be right about the things that drew us together in the first place¡­ but that isn¡¯t why we¡¯ve stayed together.¡±


    He kissed me and I knew I would never in my lifetime find another man like the one holding me in his arms. I could let him go and spend the rest of my life searching for someone to fill the void he left. We found each other through our wounds, our sad and broken places. And we were healing each other too. Slowly and with great effort, but it was happening. And maybe that was the real magic of love. We started out two broken people and together, we created something entirely new and whole.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to marry you,¡± he whispered as we parted. ¡°And I¡¯m going to spend the rest of my life trying to be the man you see when you look at me.¡±


    ¡°You are him.¡± I put my head on his chest, tears slipping down my cheeks as I closed my eyes. ¡°You always were.¡±


    We sat quietly and I knew it was no accident that he¡¯d somehow found his way here. By chance or by design, it was meant to be. We were meant to be. It was the one thing¡ªmaybe the only thing¡ªI would ever know for certain.

 Page 21

    ¡°Hey, I want to show you something.¡± He reached over and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a newspaper. I recognized it immediately. There we were, making out, on the front of the entertainment section. It still made me wince.


    At least that hadn¡¯t created the fallout that Greg, Mr.Doom and Gloom, had predicted. He¡¯d mailed us a Teen Beat magazine with that picture of Dale and a poll of his girl fans. Sixty-eight percent said it bothered them that Dale had a girlfriend. That same sixty-eight percent said they would still listen to his music anyway. Ninety percent said if they found he had a girlfriend, it would make them jealous. That same ninety-percent also said it would just make them more determined to win the rocker¡¯s affections.


    I told Dale I didn¡¯t like Teen Beat giving his fans ideas.


    ¡°Look.¡± Dale pointed to the picture of him putting the garter on my leg at Aimee¡¯s wedding. ¡°Look at your shoulder.¡±


    I brought the paper closer, holding it tilted toward the sunlight. My dress had a scoop neck and back, revealing cleavage in front and a good expanse of my bare back.


    ¡°My birthmark,¡± I whispered. It was right there for everyone to see.


    ¡°It may not mean anything,¡± Dale murmured, reaching over to touch my shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t show you. I didn¡¯t want to spoil things if he really was your dad¡­¡±


    Lies. All lies.


    He had just wanted money, after all.


    ¡°I can have him investigated,¡± Dale offered. ¡°I mean, he could still be who he says.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± I tossed the paper on the floor. ¡°He never wanted me, whoever he is. He only wanted to take advantage of you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sara.¡± He gathered me in and I fit myself against him, soft curves melting into sharp angles.


    ¡°I¡¯m the one who¡¯s sorry. I should have listened to you,¡± I murmured. ¡°Let¡¯s go home. I want a do-over on this day.¡±


    But the worst part of the day was yet to come.


    Chrissy was gone with her new found friends to the local mall but John was waiting for us, looking concerned.


    ¡°We¡¯re fine.¡± I assured him, giving him a long, long hug when we got into the door.


    ¡°You got a phone call.¡± He hugged me back. ¡°I told him you¡¯d call back.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk to Ben,¡± I replied wearily, disengaging myself and heading toward the stairs. ¡°I want to go back to bed.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t Ben,¡± John said, glancing over at Dale. He still looked very worried. ¡°It was the prosecutor¡¯s office.¡±


    I froze.


    ¡°What did they want?¡± Dale grabbed my hand.


    ¡°Your stepfather¡­¡± John met my eyes and I felt everything inside me turn to ice water. ¡°Peter Holmes is getting out of jail. Parolled. Time served for good behavior.¡±


    ¡°Good behavior?¡± I laughed. The irony was too painful to bear.


    ¡°Sara?¡± John called as I turned, zombie-like, and started up the stairs. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± I called back in a little voice. ¡°I¡¯m just going to take a nap.¡±


    Dale followed me up the stairs. He helped me undress. I seemed to have forgotten how to unbutton and unzip things. Then he took off his pants and got in, spooning behind me.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to find me,¡± I whispered to the wall.


    ¡°No.¡± Dale stroked my hair. ¡°The reporters couldn¡¯t even find us, remember?¡±


    ¡°Ben found me.¡± I closed my eyes, feeling tears slip down onto the pillow.


    ¡°I¡¯ll protect you.¡± His arms tightened, enfolding me. ¡°I promise.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m scared.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he whispered. ¡°I¡¯m here. I won¡¯t let anything happen to you.¡±


    I nodded, but I knew better.


    We couldn¡¯t protect each other, not all of the time, even the people we loved the most. Sometimes things happened. Sometimes they were very, very bad things, and nothing we did or said could stop them from happening.


    CHAPTER TWELVE


    The tour started in Florida. That irony didn¡¯t escape me, since Ben was from Florida. He¡¯d called several times but I told John to tell him I wasn¡¯t home and I had left without saying goodbye. We flew down in the record company¡¯s private jet. I told Dale I didn¡¯t want to be his Yoko, but things had already gotten off to a rocky start. The members of Black Diamond had never liked me. I distracted Dale too much from the band. Which, early on, I had to admit was true, but it wasn¡¯t true anymore. Well, it wasn¡¯t as true.


    It was the lead guitarist, Rick¡ªI called him a Dale wannabe when Dale wasn¡¯t around¡ªwho was the biggest problem. He said if Dale could bring me, then he could bring his wife and kid. I didn¡¯t even know he had a kid. So Greg had solved the problem by giving me a job on the tour. I was in charge of fashion and style.


    ¡°You went to art school, right?¡± Greg had asked. ¡°Good. Make them into rock gods.¡±


    A tall order. At least for the rest of Black Diamond, which consisted of Rick Baker, a grumpy, bitter lead guitarist with an bowl haircut who like to wear parachute pants, Terry Miller, whose spiky, white-blonde Billy Idol hair was his best and worst feature, and Eddie ¡°Bear¡± Allen, a two-hundred-and-fifty pound drummer who insisted on wearing sweatbands on his head and wrists while he played and I was pretty sure he hadn¡¯t shaved since 1984.


    Of course, when it came to Dale, I didn¡¯t have to do anything. He had his own sense of style, always had. That was part of what drew girls to him. Not the clothes, but that he knew who he was. He had a kind of lazy confidence, a self-assurance. He was comfortable in his own skin. That came across in everything about him, from his smirk of a smile to the dancing light in his eyes. He could have worn anything¡ªor nothing¡ªand the girls would have gone crazy.


    When we touched down in Orlando, I finally let go of Dale¡¯s hand¡ªit was red and swollen from my squeezing it¡ªmore than ready to get off the plane. It was only the second time I¡¯d been on one and I was still a nervous flyer. The band had complained, but I was glad we¡¯d be on the ground in a bus for the rest of the tour.


    ¡°Look at that.¡± Dale showed me his hand again as we walked down the stairway and onto the tarmac. ¡°I think you left a thumbprint.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I apologized again. I was so grateful to be on solid ground again I could have kissed it. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to.¡±


    There was a line of cars parked, waiting for us. Chelsea had taken care of everything. As much as I disliked Greg Richer, I adored Chelsea Caldwell. Chelsea was Dark Wing¡¯s tour manager, and she handled everything. Not only did she juggle transportation for Dark Wing, she juggled the opening act¡ªBlack Diamond¡ªplus the entire crew. Dark Wing had taken their own plane, so Black Diamond and the crew traveled together.


    Chelsea was constantly in motion, always on the phone¡ªshe had one strapped to her belt, a giant, clunky thing with a big antennae¡ªand the only time she wasn¡¯t talking on it was when we were actually in the air. She practically ran down the stairs as soon as the plane was on the ground, barking orders left and right, her frizzy red hair managing to escape its moorings to blow around her freckled cheeks as she directed the crew as they came off the plane,


    ¡°That¡¯s yours,¡± Chelsea put a hand on Dale¡¯s shoulder, pointing to the car in back. It was different from the other ones. It looked like a regular taxi, only white instead of yellow. ¡°Have a great time, you two!¡±


    Then she was off again. I glanced up at Dale, curious.


    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise.¡± He grinned, slipping an arm around my waist and leading me toward the taxi.


    The show wasn¡¯t until tomorrow and we¡¯d taken an early morning flight out. Dale hated mornings and had grumbled sleepily until we were on the plane. Black Diamond got to sit up front in what was effectively first class while the crew rode coach. As soon as Dale was buckled in, he leaned back and fell asleep. He could sleep anywhere. In the meantime, I had closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder and pretended to sleep, but he had the marks on his hand to prove I was awake for most of the flight.


    ¡°You know where we¡¯re going?¡± Dale asked the driver as we got in the back.


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± The driver was a scruffy old guy with white hair and a southern accent. It was weird to hear him calling Dale sir.


    ¡°He gets to know where we¡¯re going and I don¡¯t?¡± I pouted.


    ¡°Sur-priiiiise,¡± he whispered, wrapping his arm around me, pulling my head to his chest. ¡°Be a good girl and close your eyes¡ªdon¡¯t peek or I¡¯ll have to get the blindfold.¡±


    ¡°The blindfold!¡± I gasped, starting to raise my head


    ¡°I said, don¡¯t peek!¡± Dale put his hand over my eyes. ¡°Bad girl.¡±


    I stuck my tongue out at him but I don¡¯t know if he saw me. The cabbie had the air conditioner on¡ªit was August in Florida at nine a.m. and already ninety degrees. I think I started sweating the minute I stepped off the plane.


    ¡°Can I at least guess?¡± I asked. I was trying to think of what it might be but was drawing a blank.


    ¡°Shh.¡± Dale kissed the top of my head. ¡°Take a nap. You were strung so tight on the plane I thought you were going to snap in two.¡±


    ¡°How do you know? You were sleeping!¡±


    ¡°I just know.¡± He peeked under his hand and I blinked up at him. ¡°Close those pretty eyes and go to sleep.¡±


    I was tired¡ªhe was right, I¡¯d been so tense on the plane I practically jumped out of my seat every time we hit a little bump. I knew, statistically, I had been safer in the plane than I was now in the taxi, but for some reason my body didn¡¯t like that logic. I relaxed against Dale, leaving my eyes closed, and did just what he told me.


    I drifted off.


    ¡°Sara?¡±


    Dale¡¯s voice woke me. He sat up fully, taking me with him as I opened my eyes, stretching and yawning before I remembered.


    ¡°Where are we?¡±


    ¡°I wanted you to see.¡± He pointed out the cabbie¡¯s front window and I blinked, clearing my still-fuzzy vision.


    I looked up at the sign spanning the freeway just as we passed underneath it.


    ¡°Walt Disney World?¡± I blinked at him, a half-smile already on my lips. ¡°You¡¯re kidding me? Walt Disney World?¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s for kids, but you never got to go.¡± He shrugged, looking sheepish. ¡°I thought we could go be kids for the day.¡±


    ¡°Walt Disney World!¡± I squealed, throwing my arms around him and bursting into tears at the same time.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Dale looked alarmed, pulling back to look at me. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I just¡­¡± I was crying so hard, my voice was halted and hitched in my chest. ¡°Never¡­ thought¡­ I never¡­ got¡­ to go¡­¡±


    ¡°I told you I was going to give you everything you ever wanted.¡± Dale cupped my wet teary face in his hands, kissing each cheek ¡°And I meant it.¡±


    I threw my arms around him again, still crying, but they were happy tears.

 Page 22

    ¡°Here.¡± The cabbie handed back a Kleenex box, taking one for himself and dabbing at his eyes.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I sniffed, wiping my wet face as we approached the gates.


    ¡°I¡¯ve made this drive a hundred times, Miss,¡± the cabbie said as he pulled over to let us off. ¡°From first timers to cancer kids, I¡¯ve dropped them right here¡ªand this is the only time someone¡¯s actually made me cry. Damnit.¡±


    He reached back for the Kleenex and I handed him the box. I saw his name on the visor and a little jolt when through me. His name was Benjamin Grouse. Ben.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I didn¡¯t know if I was thanking the cabbie or Dale but they both said, ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    ¡°You have the time of your life!¡± the cabbie called, rolling down the passenger side window so we could hear him as we climbed out of the back seat. I asked Dale if we should pay, but he said Chelsea had taken care of it.


    ¡°We should give him something¡­¡± I opened my purse and leaned down to hand him two dollars.


    ¡°Thanks, Ben.¡±


    ¡°Thank yourself, lil miss.¡± He smiled, dropping me a wink. I wasn¡¯t sure what that meant but the feeling came through all the same. ¡°You stay all the way to the end, for the fireworks. It¡¯s a helluva show.¡±


    ¡°We will.¡± I gave him a little wave and moved back as he pulled away from the curb.


    Dale took my hand, swinging it as we walked into the park.


    ¡°Don¡¯t we have to pay?¡± I asked as he strolled past the line of people waiting to get in.


    ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Dale reached under his t-shirt and pulled out a laminated card on a lanyard. Then he reached into his back pocket, producing another one to hang around my neck. ¡°Your key to the kingdom, princess.¡±


    ¡°I already found my prince, remember?¡± I kissed him, intending for it just to be a quick, sweet kiss, but his hands moved to my lower back and I wrapped my arms around his neck and suddenly we were really kissing, completely lost, the world around us melting away.


    ¡°Ewwwwwwwwww they¡¯re KISSing!¡± a little voice piped up beside us and I looked down to see a kid about five, curly blond hair and big, blue-eyes, pointing at us.


    ¡°Cody, that¡¯s not nice. Come on over here.¡± His mother, carrying a toddler on her hip and pushing a stroller with a newborn in it, tried to pull him away, but her hands were rather full.


    ¡°You¡¯ll chance your mind some day, kid,¡± Dale said, giving him a wink. I smiled at the mom, who smiled back. I wondered where her husband was¡ªwho would go to Disney alone with three kids under five?


    ¡°I will not!¡± he scoffed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think Cinderella is pretty?¡± I teased.


    He hesitated, frowning. ¡°A little.¡±


    ¡°What about Sleeping Beauty?¡± Dale inquired


    Cody¡¯s face lit up. ¡°I like her!¡±


    ¡°We found his type,¡± Dale said to me in a low voice. I laughed.


    ¡°If Sleeping Beauty wouldn¡¯t wake up unless you kissed her¡­ would you do it?¡± Dale asked.


    Cody made a face. We¡¯d clearly stumped him. He didn¡¯t like kissing, but clearly he did like being the hero.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said finally, with a very dramatic sigh. ¡°But it was be a very fast kiss! Not like you guys. Ewwwwwww!¡±


    We were back to ¡°ewwwwww.¡±


    ¡°Good man.¡± Dale held out his hand for high-five and Cody gave him one. ¡°See you around.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to the Haunted Mansion!¡± Cody exclaimed, his blue eyes even bluer when they opened wide like that.


    ¡°Are you gonna be scared?¡± Dale asked.


    Cody hesitated, just a beat. ¡°A little.¡±


    ¡°You gonna do it anyway?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Good man!¡± Another high five. Dale put his hand next to his mouth, leaning in toward Cody, pretending to tell him a secret. ¡°I¡¯m going to take her through the Haunted Mansion. She¡¯s going to be so scared, she¡¯ll jump right in my lap.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to kiss her?¡± Cody whispered, looking over at me, speculative.


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°Good man!¡± Cody exclaimed, holding up his little hand for a high-five. I couldn¡¯t help laughing as Dale gave him one.


    ¡°You¡¯re not molesting me in the Haunted Mansion,¡± I informed him as we waved goodbye to Cody and his mom¡ªwho had been so busy with the fussy baby in the stroller the whole time, I don¡¯t think she¡¯d heard much of our conversation. I wondered what Cody was going to ask that night, as his mom tucked him into bed, about girls and kissing.


    ¡°The hell I¡¯m not,¡± Dale countered, slapping my behind as we walked through the front gates with our passes. I felt the stares¡ªand glares¡ªof everyone in line. I was beginning to learn that having a rock star boyfriend did have its advantages.


    He was true to his word. I was groped in the Haunted Mansion, on the Small World ride, in front of the Wizard of Oz animatronics, on the monorail and in front of the aquarium. We took our own sky cab and rode it over everything and made out for at least half the ride. There were fountains that shot streams of water over the sidewalks, from one fountain to the other. We got soaked standing in front of them, laughing like idiots the whole time.


    I wanted to see and do everything. We ate junk all day¡ªcotton candy and hot dogs¡ªas we sprinted from one place to the next, our passes giving us instant access to rides and attractions. It was amazing, we just went to the front of the line and they waved us right through. We did Epcot first, where we attended a class on how to draw Disney characters. By the time the teacher was done talking, I had a whole cast drawn on my board and Dale had managed to make Mickey¡¯s body, a little misshapen, and one sad ear.


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have suggested this,¡± Dale sighed, looking at my drawing. ¡°You¡¯ve unmanned me.¡±


    ¡°I just outdrew you,¡± I teased.


    Everyone came over to exclaim over my drawing and someone in a suit came over and asked if I wanted a job drawing for Disney. Dale watched the whole exchange with his jaw dropped.


    ¡°Maybe some day,¡± I told the suit¡ªhis name was David something¡ªtaking Dale¡¯s hand. ¡°Right now we have to go on an undersea adventure!¡±


    David gave me his card anyway. David Grommet, head of Animation Academy.


    ¡°Good to know I¡¯ll have something to fall back on if this whole rock star thing falls through,¡± I teased as we made our way through the crowd.


    It was nearing sunset when my enthusiasm started to wane a little. We¡¯d been up since five and had eaten enough sugar to kill Dumbo. Or maybe even Dumbo¡¯s mother. I leaned my head on Dale¡¯s shoulder as we sat, resting our feet, on the edge of one of the fountains.


    ¡°You ready for fireworks?¡± Dale kissed the top of my head, warming me all the way to my toes.


    ¡°You¡¯re my fireworks.¡± I nuzzled my face into his neck, feathering kisses there.


    ¡°Mmm keep that up and you¡¯re going to get more than fireworks.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I traced my tongue along the salty trail of his collarbone.


    Dale stood, suddenly all business, taking my hand and leading me.


    I tromped along beside him, exhausted, whining, ¡°Where are we going? I was comfortable!¡±


    But Dale was clearly on a mission so I just followed, trudging through crowds¡ªthey were thinning out a little¡ªinto a restaurant. More stairs! Ugh. We climbed those too.


    ¡°Can I sit now?¡± I asked as we went around a corner and the whole world opened up to a view that made me gasp out loud. You could see the Magic Kingdom Castle, lights below making it glow purple, from the restaurant¡¯s terrace. It was truly like a fairy tale.


    ¡°How about you sit here?¡± Dale grabbed a chair and pulled onto his lap. I laughed, looking at the desserts laid out on the counter in front of us. There were berry tarts and chocolate covered strawberries and delicate, lacey cookies. The perfect end to our junk food eating day. I sat, contented, in Dale¡¯s lap and fed him strawberries, licking chocolate off his lips, until the fireworks show.


    Which was beyond spectacular. Old Ben had been spot on, suggesting we stay. It was a glorious, magical display and I leaned back against Dale, who stretched out his legs and held me around the waist, my head resting against his shoulder. We were in our own little world. I hardly noticed all the other people around us watching the fireworks¡ªcouples as well as families with little kids whose eyes were starry after the fireworks display.


    I groaned as I rolled off Dale and stood up.


    ¡°My feet hurt.¡±


    He laughed, putting his arms around me. ¡°I guess going dancing on Pleasure Island is out then?¡±


    ¡°Pleasure Island?¡± I perked up. ¡°That sounds fun and exotic.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a bunch of night clubs. You want to go?¡±


    I considered it, putting my arms around his neck.


    ¡°I think I¡¯d rather you just take me to bed.¡±


    He lowered his lips to mine. The way he slowly, softly ran his tongue across the seam of my lips, asking for entrance, made my whole body surrender to him and I melted into him.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I breathed when we parted. I felt tears threatening again but I held them back. I didn¡¯t want to turn into a blubbering idiot in the middle of a restaurant. There were still enough people around to notice.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he whispered, touching his forehead to mine. ¡°You are so much better than fireworks. Just watching you watch them, seeing that light in your eyes, makes me love you so much it hurts.¡±


    ¡°Right here.¡± He took my hand, pressing it against his chest.


    He was a rock star with the soul of a poet. I kissed him again, long and hard and sweet.


    ¡°Ewwwwwwwwwww!¡±


    I startled, looking around, and saw Cody and his mom¡ªand there was his dad, holding the toddler. Mom had the baby.


    ¡°Hey little dude!¡± Dale called, waving across the terrace at him. ¡°Did you like the fireworks!¡±


    ¡°Yeahhhhh!¡± His eyes were still all starry. ¡°They were way cool!¡±


    ¡°Awesome!¡± Dale gave him the thumbs up, taking my hand in his other hand. He started leading me toward the exit.


    ¡°Did you kiss her in the Haunted Mansion?¡± Cody called.


    Dale stopped and looked back. I was trying to keep a straight face. Then Dale winked and gave him a big thumbs up.


    ¡°Good man!¡± Cody called back, giving him two enthusiastic little thumbs up right back.


    I laughed as we headed down the stairs.


    ¡°Your feet still hurt?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t yours?¡±


    ¡°A little.¡± With the power of the pass, Dale got us one of those little golf carts I saw Disney employees running around in. We drove it to the front of the park and left it with one of the attendants.


    ¡°Your first show is tomorrow.¡± It just hit me as we were sitting there on the bench, waiting. Dale had used the phone in the attendant¡¯s booth to call Chelsea to handle getting us back to the hotel.


    ¡°I know.¡± He leaned back on the bench, thumbs hooked in his belt.


    ¡°Nervous?¡±

 Page 23

    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Not even a little?¡± I raised my eyebrows, searching his face.


    ¡°Well¡­ maybe a little.¡± He smiled.


    ¡°But you¡¯re gonna do it anyway?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Good man.¡± I gave him two thumbs up and he laughed.


    I leaned my head against his shoulder as we waited, feeling so very blessed.


    I knew I was the luckiest girl in the world to have such a good man in my life.


    And even if I had to share him with fifty-thousand screaming fans, he was all mine.


    CHAPTER THIRTEEN


    Sex on a tour bus was impossible if you wanted privacy. It was easy, though, if you didn¡¯t. Rick climbed up into his bed every night with his headphones, pulled the curtain, and went to sleep, and even though we didn¡¯t get along very well, that kind of thawed me toward him a little. He had a wife and kid at home and he went to bed alone every night. I knew that couldn¡¯t be easy, given that there were hundreds¡ªliterally, hundreds¡ªof girls who would have been happy to hop on the bus with him after the shower.


    The groupies lined up near the backstage door, just to catch a glimpse of the band. It was Dale they were all after, of course. But he was taken. I thought it would be Terry who would benefit most from the groupie runoff. He wasn¡¯t conventionally handsome, but he was interesting-looking, and I could see how his white-blond spiky hair (peroxide in the sink, I discovered) could be appealing. And he did bring a few girls on the bus at first, but I think he must have either sworn off it or he just got bored, because he, too, started going to bed at night with his headphones, curtain drawn.


    And headphones were necessary, because Eddie ¡°Bear¡± Allen was getting laid. Just the first two venues alone, one in Florida and the other in Georgia, I think he¡¯d had sex with more girls than he¡¯d ever been with in his lifetime. And I didn¡¯t quite know how it was happening, because our beds were pretty small. They were average twin size, pretty luxury for a bus, but Dale and I were used to a double. And Eddie? He was two-hundred-and-fifty pounds of man flesh. It defied the laws of physics.


    Granted, the girls he was bringing back were model skinny¡ªhe¡¯d discovered he could pick them out in the crowd and one of the crew would give the girls he liked a backstage pass. Of course, Eddie was behind the drums for the whole set, so he scoped them out before the show. His tastes seemed to trend toward those toothpick girls with long limbs and jutting hipbones. From the sounds coming from his cubby¡ªand we¡¯d all quickly learned from experience to avoid the bus right after the show¡ªthe girls were all having a good time. I was afraid he was going to hurt one of them¡ªnot on purpose or anything, but they were so little and he was so big, and our beds were kind of high up.


    Mostly the girls would leave after the sex, but he picked up a girl in South Carolina during our fourth show on the road who just stayed. I didn¡¯t know what her name was but Bear called her Pixie, which could have been reference to her stature¡ªprobably not quite five feet¡ªor her short, dark haircut. Or maybe it was her real name, who knew? Pixie made it clear she was available to all the guys, if they wanted her. Especially Dale. When he told me that, I made sure I had a little talk with Pixie when none of the guys were around. After that, she didn¡¯t talk to Dale much and me not at all. Which was fine by me.


    But I admit, I was a little shocked when Pixie would join Bear after every show on the bus. He continued to pick out girls¡ªhe was like a kid set loose an ice cream store and he wanted to try every possible flavor¡ªand Pixie would just join the party. Sometime I woke up to go to the bathroom and I¡¯d find limbs poking every which way out of Bear¡¯s cubby, the sound of the big guy¡¯s snoring filling the bus.


    Black Diamond had their own bus, thank goodness. I loved the crew¡ªthey were great guys¡ªbut I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to share close quarters with them. Of course, sharing close quarters with three band members who had mixed feelings about me wasn¡¯t that fun either. It¡¯s exactly what I¡¯d been worried about when I¡¯d expressed my reservations in the first place. I hadn¡¯t anticipated the sex.


    When I asked Chelsea about the groupie-sex thing, she laughed. She said it was common practice on the road. She was surprised the rest of the guys weren¡¯t doing it too. Maybe they were taking Dale¡¯s lead, or maybe they were just too shy, given the close quarters. But Chelsea devoted one entire drawer in our little kitchenette to condoms. It was packed full of every size and flavor known to man.


    ¡°Is this what you¡¯d be doing on the road if I wasn¡¯t here?¡± I asked Dale one night after we¡¯d been treated to a particularly loud sexual symphony from across the aisle. I felt bad for Rick, because Bear was right next to him, just on the other side of a thin wall¡ªif you could call it a wall at all.


    ¡°I¡¯d be sleeping with headphones on,¡± Dale replied, kissing the side of my breast. We were all tangled up post coitus, having taken advantage of the noise across the aisle to drown us out while we were having sex. ¡°And jerking off, thinking about you.¡±


    ¡°You think about me when you jerk off?¡± I smiled. That was a nice thought. ¡°Not all those women out there throwing their panties on stage?¡±


    And here I¡¯d believed that was just a metaphor.


    Silly me.


    Bear had actually started a collection.


    ¡°Baby, I can barely concentrate on anything else when you¡¯re with me,¡± he murmured, nuzzling my breast. ¡°When you¡¯re not? I can¡¯t think about anything but you.¡±


    ¡°So no Pixies for you, even if I¡¯m not on the tour?¡± I eyed him, only slightly doubtful.


    ¡°No Pixies for me.¡± He laughed. ¡°Besides, she scares me.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s only this big.¡± I held up my thumb and forefinger and he eyed the space between.


    ¡°Yeah, but didn¡¯t you hear her yelling at Bear backstage?¡±


    I shook my head. Dale treated me to the gossip¡ªPixie went off on him for taking a girl back to the bus alone. All by himself. No Pixie invited. That, apparently, hadn¡¯t gone over well. But from the sounds across the way, they¡¯d made up¡ªI knew the high-pitched sound of Pixie¡¯s climax and hadn¡¯t heard any other girl¡¯s voice.


    While I¡¯d been thinking about Pixie and Bear, Dale drifted off, his breathing deep and even. I watched him sleep for a while, thankful things seemed to have quieted down over there. There was about a fifteen minute respite and then came the sound of Bear snoring. I was used to it by now and could sleep through it, but for some reason I felt wakeful.


    Tomorrow was our first show in New York. Finally, home. We had worked our way up the coast, getting closer and closer. We played a lot of shows in New York, so there would be time to visit. I was looking forward to seeing John¡ªeven if I dreaded facing Chrissy. And I was desperate to see Aimee and how big her belly was getting!


    But I was worried about Ben. I¡¯d left things¡­ well, I¡¯d just left them. And I hadn¡¯t called to talk to him either. Somehow he got Chelsea¡¯s number¡ªthe man would have made a great private investigator. Or con man, Dale said. Chelsea was the only one with a mobile phone so we relied on her for communication. That was the number John had in case of emergencies. I gave it to Aimee so she could call if something happened¡ªI wouldn¡¯t even say ¡°with the baby,¡± out loud. Dale¡¯s manager, Greg, had called on it several times to talk to Dale and the band to check on him and see how the tour was going.


    The first time she told me someone named Ben called for me, I froze. Dale explained who he was while I ran to the back of the bus to the bathroom. I¡¯d just shut the door and locked it and sat there, shaking. I knew I had to face it¡ªhim¡ªeventually. I was so afraid he was going to try to manipulate me again. How could I trust him now?


    Just thinking about it made me cry. It was better not to think about it. So I told Chelsea if he called again, I didn¡¯t want to talk to him. She did as I asked, but she continued to tell me every time he called¡ªand he called often, usually at least once a week¡ªgiving me a long, steady look, like she expected something from me. I would just say, ¡°Okay, thanks,¡± and leave it at that. But she looked at me like she didn¡¯t want to leave it.


    I liked Chelsea¡ªeveryone liked Chelsea¡ªbut I hated when she looked at me like that.


    I glanced over at the map I¡¯d tacked up to the wall, tracing our route from Florida. Time was strange on the road, and everything blended all together. The venues were all the same, big stadiums, big speakers, big crowds. But for the band, it was like living in a tunnel. They were herded from place to place, down hallways, sitting backstage, waiting for the lights to go down.


    It was, surprisingly, a lot of waiting. You would have thought it would be far more exciting. These were big rock stars¡ªor, at least, they were on their way to becoming big rock stars¡ªwhere was the booze, the drugs, the girls? Well¡ªBear had the girls covered. And there was booze, and they did get drunk a few times after the show, but it wasn¡¯t a constant or even a usual thing. Drugs I never saw¡ªalthough I did hear Chelsea tell Dale once they were available upon request.


    The best part of being on the road, for me, besides being with Dale, which was a given, was having front row seats to every show. And it never got old. I asked Dale if he ever got bored, playing the same songs over and over every night and he looked at me like I¡¯d just sprouted three heads and was speaking Latin. I¡¯d only asked because you would think it would get boring¡ªbut it didn¡¯t. The time between shows got boring sometimes, but never the shows themselves. They were the whole reason for all the miles, all the tunnels, all the hotels, all the waiting. The shows and the fans. And as excited as I knew the fans were¡ªI remembered being one¡ªfor the guys in Black Diamond, it was like Christmas every night they got to go on stage.


    New York was no exception, although there was a little more excitement in the air because for most of us, this was home¡ªor close enough to it. I woke up tired to the sound of Chelsea¡¯s voice as she opened the door and stuck her head into the bus. We¡¯d been rolling the last time I remembered, the miles ticking by on smooth asphalt in the dark, the wheels on the bus, round and round like that kids¡¯ song, a lullaby that finally put me to sleep.


    Dale was gone¡ªso it was already a bad day. He¡¯d taken to waking up early on the road, putting on a pair of headphones, strapping on his walkman, and going for a run. He¡¯d never been a runner before, but he said it cleared his head in the morning. And that was a new thing too. Dale was not a morning guy. He and sunshine didn¡¯t get along.


    ¡°Team meeting in half an hour!¡± Chelsea called. ¡°Rise and shine, gentlemen and ladies! Whatever it was, you¡¯ve had enough time to sleep it off, if not, too bad. This is your only notice before I come in with a bowl of ice water!¡±


    I put my head back down on the pillow, looking at my little map and thinking about Dale. We spent most of our time together, except when he was on stage. Even during radio interviews, I went with him and watched. I couldn¡¯t begrudge him time alone. I just hated it because I didn¡¯t like being alone with my own thoughts. But that was my problem, not his.

 Page 24

    I heard Pixie and Bear talking. Someone was in the bathroom¡ªlikely Rick, who liked to shower before everyone. Terry and his smoker¡¯s cough were awake. I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep. I had plenty I didn¡¯t want to think about when I was conscious¡ªand I did a pretty good job of avoiding it too. But my subconscious didn¡¯t play by the rules.


    I woke up from a dream, screaming.


    In the dream, the stepbeast had found me. He¡¯d kidnapped me, duct taping my hands together, feet too. At first I was in the trunk of a car. Then he took me out and I could breathe. It felt so good to suck in the night air, even if the piece of duct tape he tore off my mouth hurt like hell. In the dream, I was crying, begging him. He didn¡¯t say anything. He just kicked me and I fell. Like Alice down a hole, I fell and fell and then THUD, I hit the ground. Then he was filling the hole with dirt. He was burying me alive. I couldn¡¯t breathe. I couldn¡¯t move.


    When I woke up in the enclosed space of our little bed, I screamed. For a minute I couldn¡¯t tell what was dream and what was reality. And everyone came running. Pixie got there first, yanking my curtain aside, her dark eyes wide. I grabbed the blanket, pulling it up to my chin. I didn¡¯t usually sleep naked, but last night, after sex, I hadn¡¯t put my t-shirt back on. I hadn¡¯t wanted to disturb Dale.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Pixie asked.


    ¡°Someone being murdered in here?¡± Chelsea. ¡°Who was that?¡±


    ¡°Sara,¡± Bear told her.


    ¡°Bad dream,¡± I whispered, swallowing hard as more people appeared. Chelsea and Bear, frowning and looking in at me. Rick, his hair wet, appearing on the other side. Then Terry with his morning cigarette, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth. The gang was all there. Except Dale¡ªand he was the one I wanted.


    ¡°Just a bad dream.¡± My voice was stronger now. The dream was fading. ¡°Sorry guys.¡±


    That was our excitement for the morning.


    I went to take a shower. I¡¯d seen the inside of Dark Wing¡¯s tour bus and it was far more luxurious than ours¡ªbut for a bus, I couldn¡¯t complain. Our shower door was glass and there was a massaging showerhead. I washed my hair, massaging my scalp like I could scrub the dream out of my head. It mostly worked. By the time I was out, dried off and dressed, most of the dream had dissipated, leaving only a lingering feeling of dread.


    The crew meeting assembled outside. The busses parked together, configuring a large square in the middle, leaving only a narrow space in or out¡ªBear had to squeeze¡ªguarded by security. Sure, a fan could slip underneath one of the busses, but we were in a segregated parking lot on venue property. They¡¯d have a hard time finding us in the first place. They stayed that way until we had to leave and we could go hang in the square¡ªwe called it the square¡ªwhenever we felt like some down time outside without any danger of being swarmed by a mass of fans. It was quite ingenious really, the busses all snuggled up like that. It gave us all a sense or feeling of safety, and I think Chelsea knew it.


    She was one smart cookie.


    Dale squeezed in just as the meeting was starting. We made a big circle, either standing or sitting, while Chelsea went over the day¡¯s schedule and plan. Dark Wing didn¡¯t have to attend morning meetings. Technically, the opening band didn¡¯t either, but we spent so much more time with the crew, we kind of felt like one big family, so we went.


    I spotted Dale sneaking around the circle, making his way toward me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. I could smell him, that musky scent of sweat, and it reminded me of the night before. His shirt was damp and I could hear Nirvana still playing over his headphones. They were down around his neck.


    ¡°Some day we¡¯re going to be in the big bus,¡± he whispered. ¡°We¡¯ll have our own private jet. We won¡¯t have to listen to Bear getting laid.¡±


    I giggled at that, then sobered quickly when Chelsea glanced my way.


    ¡°We won¡¯t have to attend meetings.¡±


    I shrugged, whispering back, ¡°I kind of like the meetings.¡±


    ¡°Weirdo.¡± He pulled my hair aside, nuzzling the back of my neck. ¡°I heard you had a bad dream.¡±


    I stiffened. News traveled fast!


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t want to tell me?¡±


    I shook my head, shushing him.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell all of us?¡± Chelsea snapped. I loved Chelsea, but when she got mad, she took you down. There was no warning and no wiggle room.


    ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± I flushed, elbowing Dale in the gut, hearing him go ¡°oof!¡± I waved at her. ¡°Go on, go on.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± She eyed me for a minute then shook her head, looking back at her notes.


    Dale was laughing. I couldn¡¯t hear but I could feel it. I went to elbow him again and he grabbed my arm. I tried to jerk it away but he had too good of a hold. And before I knew it, he¡¯d leaned in and hefted me over his shoulders.


    ¡°Dale!¡± I hissed, still being quiet, like the whole damned crew¡ªnot to mention the band¡ªwasn¡¯t watching and cracking up.


    ¡°Going somewhere?¡± Chelsea had reading glasses on and they made her look older. She pulled them down to look over at them at Dale carrying me around the outside of the circle.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to take her back to the bus and fuck her brains out. Okay with you?¡±


    Oh he was going to get it. I beat on his back with my fists but he acted like it was nothing. The entire crew was laughing and they started making remarks, giving Dale advice on how to get the job done right.


    ¡°Whatever floats your boat.¡± Chelsea shook her head, but she was smiling as she went back to her notes. Dale carried me through the narrow way¡ªbarely squeezing through.


    ¡°I am going to kill you when you put me down,¡± I informed him through clenched teeth as he headed toward our bus.


    ¡°Guess I better never put you down then,¡± he made an about-face, heading the other way.


    ¡°No!¡± I cried. ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°I thought you were going to kill me.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess I better keep moving.¡± He started forward and I howled. He stopped again and asked, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The bus.¡± The words were barely audible.


    ¡°What¡¯d you say?¡±


    ¡°The bus! The bus! Okay, let¡¯s go back to the bus!¡±


    ¡°Are you going to kill me?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do to me?¡± he asked, sounding genuinely curious.


    Two could play this game. ¡°I¡¯m going to tie you up.¡±


    He snorted. ¡°Good luck.¡±


    ¡°And then I¡¯m going to unzip your jeans.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m liking it.¡±


    ¡°And take out your cock.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±


    ¡°And run my tongue allll around the head.¡±


    ¡°Mm. Getting hard to walk here.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not good if I fall and take you with me.¡± He laughed.


    ¡°That just means I get your cock in my mouth sooner.¡±


    He groaned. ¡°I should have gone the short way.¡±


    He was at a light jog now.


    ¡°It makes me wet just thinking about your cock in my mouth.¡±


    And that¡¯s why I was giving Dale a blowjob when Chelsea was telling the crowd she had the night off. If she¡¯d been there, I don¡¯t think what happened would have happened at all. But I was oblivious, and Dale, who made sure, unbeknownst to me, that Chelsea knew everything¡ªeverything¡ªabout us she needed to in order to keep us, and especially me, safe, was reaching climax just around the time the meeting broke up.


    So neither of us knew Chelsea had the night off, which under normal circumstances wouldn¡¯t have been a big deal. But we were in New York, near home, near family and friends, people who knew us, some who loved us¡ªand some who hated us. I think we both thought we were safe. We had layers and layers of safety nets in place. Chelsea was just one of them¡ªbut she was the most important, I think. When she was gone, it created a huge hole.


    But we didn¡¯t know.


    We spent the day like any other day on tour. Tomorrow we would go back to New Jersey and visit. I¡¯d talked to John and Aimee the day before to make plans. I was excited for the New York show¡ª¡°home town¡± shows were always the best. And I would be there, front and center. Until then we waited. Our morning sexcapade started at the front of the bus, christening the dining table and our sitting area before ending up in the bathroom. But even that only shaved an hour off our waiting time. We took a nap. We listened to music. We watched Bear and Pixie play a mean game of chess. And we waited.


    We went on like it was any other day because we thought we were safe. We¡¯d built walls around us, a fortress. We were untouchable. Like the illusion of the busses making the square, we were in a place we could gather and let our guard down.


    We let our guard down, trusting the circle to hold, and we didn¡¯t know it until it was too late. Someone had been waiting for us to come home.


    CHAPTER FOURTEEN


    It was two hours before the first New York show when Greg Richer called to tell us the news .We were backstage, waiting, as usual. I was sitting on one of the sofas reading a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice I found on a shelf marked ¡°Free Library.¡± It was a meager collection, ten or twelve classics, a few self-help books and two copies of Moonwalk, Michael Jackson¡¯s autobiography, which had received a lot of press the year before. Now they were apparently giving away copies.


    Dale had his head in my lap and he was playing Tetris on his new Gameboy. All the band members got one as soon as they came out, a nice perk, a gift from one of the venues. I think it was in Georgia¡ªor maybe Virginia. The boys loved them and played them constantly. I tried a few times but they made my eyes feel buggy and gave me a headache.


    Chelsea came into the room, waving her mobile phone over her head. If it didn¡¯t have an antennae attached, I would swear she looked like she was going to throw a brick at someone¡¯s head when she did that. It would be one more hour before Chelsea left for her much deserved two days off, but no one mentioned it. I had no idea, and Dale later said


    ¡°Got Greg on the phone, guys! He¡¯s on speaker!¡± She hit a button on the phone and then said, ¡°Go ahead, Greg. I¡¯ve got them all rounded up for you.¡±


    We were all there. Bear and Pixie were in the corner playing chess. Rick was on the other sofa, a ball cap pulled low on his head, napping. Terry was methodically removing the tabs off all of the empty soda cans and stacking them in a pyramid on the counter.


    ¡°Hey Black Diamond!¡± Greg called.


    ¡°Hi Greg,¡± we chorused, almost in sync.


    ¡°Got great news for you boys. I Will Always Come For You went double platinum this week.¡±


    Dale sat bolt upright, staring the phone like it was an alien. Terry was so surprised he knocked over his entire soda can pyramid and they clanked to the tile floor, scattering everywhere. Rick sat up, gaping in Chelsea¡¯s direction, cap in hand. Only Bear didn¡¯t react. He was concentrating on the chess board.


    ¡°There¡¯s more!¡± Greg sounded positively gleeful. Maybe he was in the market for a new Porsche and was wondering if he could buy it with his twenty percent. ¡°Your album, Black Diamond, has gone platinum.¡±

 Page 25

    The boys were on their feet, whooping and hollering. Dale jumped up onto the coffee table and did a dive onto the other couch, flopping on it like a fish. Terry and Rick high-fived and danced around in the midst of the empty soda cans, making a huge racket.


    ¡°How many is that?¡± I asked¡ªyelled, really. I couldn¡¯t hear over the noise.


    Chelsea came closer, grinning. ¡°Ask him again.¡±


    ¡°How many is that?¡± I yelled into the receiver.


    ¡°Platinum is a million!¡± Greg¡¯s voice crackled through the speaker. ¡°Double platinum is two million.¡±


    It was a good thing I was still sitting down. I think I would have fallen down if I hadn¡¯t been. Dale jumped from his sofa to my sofa and then pounced on me like a cat. I laughed and he kissed me all over my face and then, just for good measure, licked me too, right up the side of my cheek.


    ¡°Ewww!¡± I wiped my cheek with the end of my t-shirt¡ªI always wore Black Diamond t-shirts on concert days, and it was a double bonus, because I was also advertising my own art work at the same time.


    ¡°Shamu kiss!¡± Dale called, doing it again, this time on the other cheek.


    Chelsea was laughing, sandwiched between Terry and Rick jumping up and down and trying to kiss her, holding out the phone.


    ¡°Dale!¡± she called. ¡°He wants to talk to you!¡±


    Dale grabbed the phone, turning it off speaker and flopping down on the other couch, on his back.


    ¡°Hey Greg, my main man, my favorite man in the whole damned world, whattya say?¡±


    I smiled, turning around to look at Bear and Pixie, still involved in their chess game.


    ¡°Hey, didn¡¯t you hear?¡± I called over.


    ¡°I heard.¡± Bear moved his knight, glancing up at me. ¡°Awesome.¡±


    I laughed, shaking my head. Dale always said, ¡°Drummers are weird.¡±


    ¡°We need beer!¡± Terry told Chelsea. ¡°Lots of it.¡±


    ¡°And champagne!¡± called Pixie.


    ¡°Your wish is my command!¡± Chelsea laughed, going over to the couch and holding out her hand. ¡°My phone, rock star, I need my phone.¡±


    Dale sat up, handing it over. His mood had shifted completely but no one else noticed except me.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I went over to him on the couch.


    ¡°Tell you later.¡± He shook his head, watching the rest of the band laughing, celebrating. Bear had finally come over to join in, having captured Pixie¡¯s queen. Something was wrong¡ªDale smiled and joined them. He even popped the top on the champagne and proceeded to pour the foam all over Bear¡¯s head¡ªwhich, of course, necessitated a wardrobe change for my most difficult to dress band member! Dale looked fine on the surface¡ªbut I just knew something wasn¡¯t right.


    I tried to get him alone before the show, but it was impossible. Word spread like wildfire and all five of the members of Dark Wing came over to congratulate us and talk about their first album¡ªback in 1972¡ªto earn platinum status. By the time all the hugs and congratulations were over, it was time for the opening act to go onstage. I kissed Dale for luck¡ªhe grabbed me and hugged me close at the last minute.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked, searching his eyes. He smiled and nodded but I knew better.


    I didn¡¯t want to miss any of their act, but I wanted to find Chelsea and ask if we could arrange some sort of celebration for after the show on short notice. Dale was upset about something Greg had said¡ªbut whatever it was couldn¡¯t possibly kill the joy of hitting platinum¡ªand double platinum!


    I saw one of the crew¡ªI couldn¡¯t remember his name although I was racking my brain¡ªand stopped to ask if he¡¯d seen Chelsea, but he gave me a message first.


    ¡°Hey, Carl was looking for you.¡±


    I frowned. Carl was Chelsea¡¯s second in command.


    ¡°Do you know where he went?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Supply room.¡± He pointed to a door across the hall.


    I went over and knocked gently, waiting for an answer. I didn¡¯t get one, so I cautiously opened the door. There were shelves inside loaded with all sorts of paper products from cups and plates to toilet paper for the bathrooms.


    ¡°Carl?¡± I called.


    He came around the corner so fast he scared me. He didn¡¯t see me at first. He was mumbling to himself.


    ¡°Out of¡ª¡± He stopped at the door and looked at me, blinking. ¡°Sara! I have a message for you.¡±


    ¡°You do?¡±


    He dug into his jeans pocket, bringing out a piece of paper.


    ¡°Here.¡± He slid by me and started heading down the hall.


    I looked at the slip of paper. It was from a pink message pad with a space for To and From, Time, Date and all that, but someone had ignored the boxes and had written, ¡°Sara¡ªyour dad is waiting for you in the square.¡±


    Ben.


    He was the only one I hadn¡¯t called. But of course he knew we were in town. I remembered the way Chelsea had looked at me every time I told her to refuse a phone call from him. Had she given the note to Carl? I wasn¡¯t sure, but I thought it might be her handwriting. I looked up to ask, but Carl was long gone.


    I knew Chelsea wouldn¡¯t let anyone into the square that she didn¡¯t know. She¡¯d been briefed¡ªDale had made it very clear who we would and would not see. Of course, Ben was on that list. But she¡¯d decided, because she didn¡¯t like my choice to ignore him, to let him in? When I found her, I was going to kill her.


    Damnit. I heard Black Diamond going into their second song¡ªBonnie and Clyde¡ªI could just pretend I hadn¡¯t gotten the message. But I had a feeling, if I didn¡¯t meet him, he¡¯d coming looking for me anyway. And I didn¡¯t want to make a big scene in front of everyone, especially not tonight. I¡¯d go meet him privately, listen to what he had to say, and escort him out to security before Dale ever even knew he was here.


    I started down the hallway, headed toward the back of the stadium. The tour busses were parked way in back. The halls were a maze. I kept an eye out for Chelsea but I only saw crew members¡ªidentified by the crew silkscreened across the back of their shirts. I got turned around three times and had to ask the crew which way toward the back door. There was more than one, of course, in an amphitheater this big, but I just needed one of them.


    I felt like Alice lost in the Queen of Hearts¡¯ hedges. I was finally ready to give up¡ªBlack Diamond was likely done with their set by now!¡ªwhen I turned the corner and found the door. Actually, I found the loading area where big trucks made their deliveries. Those doors were huge, like giant garage doors, and it just reinforced the Alice theme running in my head. Had I shrunk? But no, there was a nice human-sized door on my left and I pushed it open, triumphant.


    Spending all day inside made my eyes reluctant to adjust to outside light. It was dusk, a rosy hue on the horizon over the trees. The parking lot was half-filled with cars. This was where the amphitheater staff parked¡ªthe ticket takers and concession workers and janitors. Our tour busses were at the very back. I had to walk all away across the lot.


    It gave me time to think of what to say. I found myself walking slower and slower as I neared the parked busses. The sun was really almost gone now and I hadn¡¯t brought a flashlight. Well, I¡¯d just take Ben onto the bus and we would talk there. The keys were in the visor¡ªno one could get back here to steal them, and if they did, how in the world could they get out with one?


    I ran my hand along the side of our bus as I came up to the passageway into the square on my left. I made the turn, taking the narrow way through, remembering with a smile how Dale had carried me out and had his way with me. And vice versa. Platinum. Double platinum! I was still so excited I could hardly contain it. I couldn¡¯t wait until after the show so we could really celebrate.


    Maybe I would even let Ben stay. Time had softened my heart a little. Not much, but a little bit. I had so many questions, but I was afraid of the answers. And worse¡ªI was afraid of the lies. Could I trust anything he said? I was doubtful.


    I blinked in the low light, looking for someone, anyone. The bus lights were dark. There was no one here, of course. The band was on stage and the crew was too.


    ¡°Sara.¡±


    I froze. The voice came from my left and I knew it instantly. I turned and ran. If I hadn¡¯t put my hair up that morning¡ªI was too tired and it was too late in the day to fix it up by the time Dale and I were done in the shower¡ªif I hadn¡¯t had a nice, neat little handle on the back of my goddamned head, I would have been free.


    ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going, little girl?¡±


    I screamed. The stepbeast had me by my hair, pulling me back, dragging me back, because I was clinging to the front of the bus, looking for hand holds. I had my fingers hooked into one of the recesses for the lights for a moment before he yanked me free and I stumbled back into the square.


    The first blow hit me like a memory. I don¡¯t think I even felt it, but I tasted blood. I just knew I had to scream and kick and fight for my life to get out of his grip. I didn¡¯t have time and I knew it. If he got me down, I knew I¡¯d never get up again. I screamed for help, I screamed for Dale, I screamed and lashed out with every limb, gouging his skin with my nails every time I came in contact with it. In the end, he was just too strong. He overpowered me, forcing me to the asphalt.


    I had absorbed most of the fall with my hip and I struggled to stay on my back instead of letting him roll me to my stomach. His full weight was on me and he panted with the effort, grabbing my arms by the wrists and pinning them over my head. His face hovered over mine in the dark. I smelled his fetid breath, cigarettes and beer and a wasted life.


    ¡°Listen here, bitch.¡± He spat the last word, spraying spittle on my cheek. ¡°We¡¯re gonna have a little fun before we say goodbye. We can do this easy or we can do it hard. It¡¯s up to you.¡±


    How old had I been the first time? I was still a virgin, certainly. I remember that much, having to throw away the bloody sheets I couldn¡¯t get clean. I washed and washed and washed them like Lady Macbeth, but the blood never did come out and my mother complained about my missing sheets for a month.


    We can do this easy or we can do it hard. It¡¯s up to you.


    When I finally, tearfully confessed to Dr. Jarvis¡ªit was probably six months or more before I admitted the truth¡ªit was my fault, really. He had given me the choice and I had chosen the easy path. Two roads diverged and I let my stepfather rape me. Dr. Jarvis didn¡¯t placate me. He didn¡¯t tell me it wasn¡¯t my fault. He asked me a question.


    What do you think your stepfather would have done if you¡¯d put up a fight?


    And I sat with the question a long time.


    He would have raped me anyway.


    But wasn¡¯t it still at least, a little, partially my fault?


    If I had fought, if I had screamed, if I had run away¡­


    And then Dr. Jarvis had said something that changed my life.


    Let¡¯s take emotion out of it for a moment. Let¡¯s say we¡¯re doing an experiment. I want to cut the tail off a mouse. Yes, I know, it¡¯s horrible to think about. But this is our experiment. This is our goal. Our aim. Our objective is to cut the tail off this mouse. What can the mouse do to stop it?

 Page 26

    Run away. Bite you. I don¡¯t know¡­


    So what if give this mouse a choice? Let¡¯s say we have a very smart mouse¡ªa circus mouse. He can understand me and I can understand him. So I say to this mouse, Mouse, you have a choice. You can either sit and be quiet and calm while I cut off your tail, or you can struggle and fight me and perhaps hurt yourself or someone else in the process, while I cut off your tail. Which will you choose, Mouse?


    Do you see, Sara?


    I¡¯m the mouse.


    Is that all you see? What was your stepfather¡¯s aim?


    He wanted to rape me.


    Yes. Now why did he want to rape you?


    I don¡¯t know! What kind of question is that?


    Why would anyone cut the tail off a mouse?


    Because they¡¯re sick and twisted! Because watching something suffer because its smaller and weaker than they are¡­ makes them feel¡­ powerful. In control.


    Yes.


    The stepbeast felt me relenting, giving in.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good girl.¡± I heard the grin his voice. He wins. The house always wins.


    I looked up, past him, and saw the stars, a full moon. I heard the sound of his buckle, his zipper. It was like a dream, just a dream.


    I¡¯m the mouse. Where¡¯s my tail? I¡¯m the mouse. Three blind mice. I¡¯m the mouse. He chopped off the tail with a carving knife. No it was the butcher¡¯s wife. Mommy it hurts. I can¡¯t see, it¡¯s dark. Mommy where are you going? Going? Gone? Three blind mice. See how they run. See how they¡­


    Run!


    He was too heavy. I whimpered and turned my head as he struggled with my jeans, the snap, the zipper. This wasn¡¯t happening. I was floating away, going, going. I closed my eyes and was blind. Sound receded. He swore and yanked at my jeans, still on top of me, weighing me down.


    I flashed on my dream from that morning and a jolt went through me. He was burying me. Burying me alive. Because I was¡­ I was¡­


    Alive!


    I didn¡¯t scream. I didn¡¯t cry or beg or make any sound at all.


    I watched him kneel up and straddle my thigh, the shape of his head blotting out the rising moon. He was determined to take off my jeans and have his way. And then he would finish the job he started two years before.


    ¡°Little help here, Sara?¡± He yanked one side, then the other, down my hips.


    ¡°Sure.¡± I brought my knee up¡ªthe one he was straddling, as hard as I could.


    The stepbeast howled. He grabbed for his crotch but I did it again before he could cover up. He howled some more, swearing, calling me names, but I couldn¡¯t hear him. The drumbeat of my own heart was too loud in my ears. He grabbed for me with his other hand, catching hold of my wrist, but with only one limb in his grasp and an aching crotch to cover, he wasn¡¯t strong enough to hold me. Maybe he never had been.


    He teetered, still groaning, and I knew if he fell my direction, it was over.


    I rolled right on the asphalt, scrambling to my feet and breaking into a run, pulling my jeans up my hips as I went/


    ¡°Get back here right now!¡±


    I almost stopped. I¡¯d been so conditioned once upon a time that some part of me insisted I scurry back. I¡¯m not that mouse anymore. I heard him coming after me, the shuffle and grunt. He¡¯d put on weight in jail. I glanced behind me to see him gaining. Whatever painful impact I¡¯d had on his crotch was clearly fading enough for him to give chase.


    And the entrance to the square was behind me. Behind him.


    I¡¯d run in the wrong direction.


    ¡°Sara!¡± he called, coming faster now. ¡°Get back here right now!¡±


    I was trapped in the corner made by two giant tour busses. I could continue to run around the maze, double back, head for the exit.


    ¡°Sara!¡±


    Or I could stay right here and wait for the end.


    ¡°Sara! Sara!¡±


    That wasn¡¯t the stepbeast calling.


    ¡°Dale?¡± I whispered.


    The stepbeast grabbed my wrist in his fist, turning me around to face him and slamming me against the side of the bus. The back of my head hit the metal and I winced. I saw his face in the moonlight, the sideways sneer, his eyes glinting. He had something in his other hand. That glinted too.


    ¡°You¡¯re nothing.¡± I sneered right back at him with pure disgust. ¡°Less than nothing,¡±


    ¡°Now you listen to me¡ª¡±


    ¡°No. Never again.¡±


    I twisted my wrist out of his hand like I¡¯d been taught in the self-defense class Dale had made me take¡ªtoward the thumb. I was free, just for an instant. I saw the anger and something else¡ªfear?¡ªin his eyes. I knew he was going to kill me then. I saw the knife come up, just a glint in the moonlight.


    I dropped flat to the ground, scraping my palms on the asphalt, and rolled. The tour busses that created the square were big, boxy vehicles. They had to be, with everything the designers wanted to cram into them. When I¡¯d joked about fans sneaking under the busses, we all laughed, because there wasn¡¯t much room underneath, maybe ten, twelve inches at the outside edge. It would have to be a very small fan.


    Or a mouse.


    I shimmied my way under as fast as I could. It wasn¡¯t quite fast enough. He grabbed my leg, pulling hard. I screamed, trapped.


    ¡°Sara! Sara!¡±


    They were calling my name. Someone was calling my name. Dale?


    ¡°Nooo!¡± I grabbed onto something over my head, cold metal in the dark. I could smell a mix of motor oil and dirt. I pulled and twisted and felt him lose his grip, just for an instant. I jerked my leg back and felt my shoe slip off.


    I was free!


    There was more room toward the middle of the bus. I wiggled and squirmed my way across the asphalt on my belly, cursing the obscene width of the tour bus. It felt like I was crawling behind enemy lines.


    ¡°Sara!¡± It was Dale. Close!


    ¡°Dale!¡± I gasped. ¡°I¡¯m here!¡±


    I slithered out from under the other side of the bus, hearing footsteps on the pavement. I stopped, still panting with the effort, seeing at least a dozen flashlights heading toward the square. I couldn¡¯t see who was behind them in the dark, but I could hear them all, calling my name.


    ¡°I¡¯m here!¡± I stood, wobbly. ¡°Help! I¡¯m here!¡±


    I leaned against the bus, my head aching, trying to catch my breath.


    ¡°Sara.¡± Dale, panting too from his run across the parking lot. He grabbed me and hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. ¡°Carl told me about the note. I thought¡­ Are you okay? Was it Ben?¡±


    So he¡¯d had the same thought. Because the other one was so impossible it wouldn¡¯t compute. Why would he do something so risky? He was on parole. He knew he¡¯d go back to jail if he got caught. But the stepbeast thought he was too big for consequences. And that was exactly why he¡¯d come after me, I realized. I was the only person alive who had ¡°bested¡± him and he couldn¡¯t stand that. He¡¯d only spent two years in jail, but I was sure he¡¯d spent them angry, planning ways to pay me back for what I¡¯d done to him.


    What I¡¯d done to him.


    ¡°It¡¯s him.¡± I managed to croak. ¡°It¡¯s the stepbeast.¡±


    ¡°Goddamnit!¡± Dale¡¯s arms tightened around me. ¡°Sara, why did you go!¡±


    I heard people on the other side of the bus. Shouts, footfalls.


    Someone called out, ¡°I got him!¡±


    ¡°I thought it was Ben.¡± I sobbed against his chest.


    The rest of the band had caught up, all of them out of breath, several of the crew too, all asking if I was okay.


    ¡°He¡¯s still in there!¡± I cried through my tears.


    Or, maybe he wasn¡¯t. It was likely he slipped out and away during all the commotion. The thought of him out there somewhere, still. He would come for me. He did it once, he¡¯d do it again. He would come for me until it was over. Until I was dead. Game over, he wins.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Dale murmured against my aching head. In the distance I saw the yellow lights of campus security, and behind that, some flashing reds and blues. ¡°They got him:¡±


    ¡°Who? What?¡± Nothing was making sense.


    ¡°I got him!¡± I heard someone banging against the other side of the bus.


    ¡°We got him!¡± A woman¡¯s voice from the other side too. I wiggled out of Dale¡¯s arms, grabbing his flashlight and crouching down.


    ¡°Hi Pixie.¡±


    ¡°We got him.¡± She flashed me a smile. ¡°Bear told him he should pick on someone his own size.¡±


    It was incredible, but that made me laugh.


    ¡°Bear?¡± I looked up at Dale as we started to walk around the tour busses to the entrance.


    ¡°I called the cops first and had Carl tell security you were missing, I told everybody we needed to come look for you,¡± Dale explained. ¡°Bear didn¡¯t feel like walking so he, uh¡­ borrowed a vehicle.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ¡®borrow¡¯ one?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to hotwire a car,¡± he snapped, adding glumly, ¡°And they¡¯d already left.¡±


    Bear ended up being my bumbling knight in shining armor, much to Dale¡¯s chagrin. When I asked where the handcuffs came from, Pixie just grinned and dropped me a wink. Seeing the stepbeast belly down on the asphalt, hands bound behind him, made me feel a little better, but I still kept my distance.


    The cops had a lot of questions but once they ran the record on Pete Holmes, they stopped asking so many and put him in the back of their police cruiser before they did. Chelsea showed up in formal eveningwear, her hair piled up. She¡¯d had a date for the theater and when Carl called to tell her¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t go anywhere without her mobile phone wedged into her purse¡ªshe rushed back. She couldn¡¯t stop apologizing and I kept telling her it wasn¡¯t her fault.


    We couldn¡¯t trace exactly where the communication had all broken down, but the stepbeast knew my full name, he had pictures of me in his wallet, and with that, he somehow had said the right things to the right people and had been taken back to the square to wait for me. It must have seemed easy to him at the time¡ªand it was. It made me realize how close we are, all the time, to our world turning completely upside down.


    By the time it was all over and Dale had tucked me into bed beside him, I was so exhausted I could barely move.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I whispered. ¡°This should have been your night. Double platinum!¡±


    ¡°Shh.¡± He spooned up against me. ¡°You¡¯re safe, that¡¯s all that matters.¡±


    I was drifting off. I couldn¡¯t keep my eyes open. Then I remembered.


    ¡°What did Greg say?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± He squeezed his arm around my waist. ¡°Go to sleep.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t be able to sleep if you don¡¯t tell me.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to sleep if I do tell you.¡±


    ¡°Oh no.¡± I rolled toward him in the dark. ¡°What? Tell me.¡±


    He siged. ¡°Greg got a call from the New York Daily News asking if he had any opinion on the rumor that Tyler Vincent is Dale Diamond¡¯s father.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I breathed.


    ¡°They¡¯re running it in the morning.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s¡­ who¡¯s their source?¡±

 Page 27

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Once it¡¯s out there... it¡¯s out there.¡±


    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± I whispered.


    Dale was quiet for a moment.


    ¡°You know, yesterday, if Greg had told me that, I would have thought it was the end of the world,¡± he said softly, stroking my cheek in the dark. It hurt a little¡ªit was the one the stepbeast had backhanded me across. But I didn¡¯t tale Dale that.


    ¡°Now¡­¡± He kissed me, soft, slow, sweet. ¡°My world is very small. Everything else can fall away. You¡¯re all that matters.¡±


    I knew exactly how he felt.


    Dale said we wouldn¡¯t sleep, but we did, wrapped up in each other, both of us holding on to the one thing that mattered¡ªeach other.


    CHAPTER FIFTEEN


    The news was out by the time the car dropped us at home.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, son.¡± John hugged Dale the minute we got in the door. ¡°I called Tyler, left him a message. We¡¯ll straighten this out. What a mess!¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Dad.¡± Dale met my eyes over John¡¯s shoulder. So sad. He¡¯d done everything he could to keep this secret from the man who raised him and now the whole world knew.


    I hugged John tight and smiled when he kissed the top of my head and said, ¡°Welcome home.¡± We¡¯d decided not to tell him about the stepbeast. Not now. Chelsea had talked to the cops and they all agreed it was best to keep Dale¡¯s name out of any reports. The story of the stepbeast¡¯s assault was fourth page news. Tyler Vincent and Dale Diamond, on the other hand, were front and center.


    ¡°Are you hungry?¡± John asked. ¡°I can make you something¡­¡±


    ¡°Pancakes?¡± I asked hopefully.


    ¡°You got it.¡± He gave me a wink. ¡°Go put your stuff away. It will be good to have you home for a while.¡±


    A whole week. And Black Diamond was still playing shows at night. Then the tour would move up the coast, through New Hampshire, ending in Maine. Dale carried his bag and mine up the stairs. I opened the door to his room and he dropped the bags on the floor, leaping onto the bed with a groan. I laughed and flopped next to him.


    ¡°A real bed!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°Oh bed, I missed you, bed.¡±


    ¡°I think we need to check the springs.¡± Dale sat, bouncing a little. ¡°Just to make sure.¡±


    I wagged a finger at him. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it.¡±


    ¡°Hi you guys.¡±


    I looked over at the open door, startled to see Chrissy standing there. I prepared myself for an onslaught.


    Instead, she came in, shutting the door behind her, and said quietly, ¡°I have to tell you something.¡±


    Then she burst into tears. Dale looked at me, stunned. Then back at his sister. I just shrugged. I had no idea who this new Chrissy was or what she¡¯d done with the old one.


    ¡°It¡¯s all my fault,¡± she said, coming over to sit on the bed. Dale moved, making room for her between us. ¡°But I swear to God, I didn¡¯t know he was a reporter!¡±


    She¡¯d met him at the mall. He seemed interested in Dale, wanted to talk about him a lot, but she figured he was just curious about her family. She claimed she was as surprised as anyone else when the story came out and she was listed as an ¡°unidentified source.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it,¡± she sobbed. ¡°I swear I didn¡¯t mean it to come out. I thought he was just¡­interested¡­¡±


    ¡°He was interested all right.¡± Dale sighed, putting an arm around her shoulder. ¡°Hey. Come on, it¡¯s okay.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not okay.¡± She leaned against him, shaking her head. ¡°Tyler is going to do something¡­ bad.¡±


    Dale snorted. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Mom said if it ever got out¡­ he had a plan. Some sort of plan.¡± She met her brother¡¯s eyes and she really looked scared. ¡°She said it would ruin everything.¡±


    ¡°Mom said that?¡± Dale frowned, looking over at me. I shrugged. I didn¡¯t trust this new Chrissy¡ªif past behavior was any indication of future behavior, she was up to something.


    ¡°She said if I ever confronted him with the truth, he¡¯d do¡­ something.¡±


    ¡°Something is pretty broad,¡± I interjected.


    ¡°Look, I know you wanted him to¡­ I don¡¯t know, say he was our dad, I guess,¡± Dale said. ¡°But he¡¯s got a life. He¡¯s got a family. He doesn¡¯t want to jeopardize that.¡±


    ¡°What about us?¡± Chrissy asked.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got Dad.¡± Dale pointed at the door. I could already smell pancakes cooking. ¡°He¡¯s not rich, he¡¯s not famous. He¡¯s just Dad. And if I had to choose between the two, I¡¯d choose Dad. He¡¯s the most honest, hardworking, generous man I know.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she said softly, looking at the floor. ¡°I¡¯ve been kind of an awful brat to him.¡±


    Kind of?


    ¡°That¡¯s another great thing about Dad,¡± Dale said, squeezing her shoulder. ¡°He forgives easy¡ªbecause he loves us. He really loves you, Chrissy. To him, you¡¯re his daughter. And for a long time, before we heard about Tyler Vincent, he was the only dad we knew.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s going to kill him,¡± Chrissy whispered, tears in her eyes again. ¡°He was talking all morning about how the paper got it wrong and how he and Tyler were going to clear this up. When Dad finds out he¡¯s not¡­ not¡­¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Dale sighed. ¡°Damnit Chrissy, if you¡¯d just kept your mouth shut¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she whispered. ¡®I¡¯m sorry for you too. They¡¯re saying maybe he had influence over the judges at Battle of the Bands.¡±


    ¡°I knew that was coming.¡± Dale rolled his eyes.


    ¡°I could use a hand or two down here!¡± John called from the bottom of the stairs. We all froze, hoping he hadn¡¯t heard much of the conversation.


    ¡°Be right down,¡± I called.


    ¡°I really am sorry,¡± Chrissy said again.


    ¡°I know. Go on and help Dad. I want to put some of this away.¡± He nodded at the bags he¡¯d brought up.


    Chrissy went downstairs. Dale and I looked at each other. I was still so stunned I didn¡¯t know what to say.


    ¡°Chrissy apologized!¡± I flopped back in the bed, staring at the ceiling


    ¡°I know,¡± Dale started putting some of his clothes back in his drawers. ¡°I think it¡¯s the first sign of revelations. Hey.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I glanced over at him standing by the dresser.


    ¡°Dad put my mail up here.¡± Dale came over to the bed, sitting next to me. ¡°This is it.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked again, sitting up.


    ¡°The blood test. The DNA results.¡±


    ¡°Ben,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Do you want to open it?¡±


    ¡°You open it.¡±


    Dale slid his finger under the edge, pulling out a piece of paper. I threw an arm over my eyes. He was so quiet for so long I had to peek out.


    ¡°Well?¡±


    Dale held the paper out to me.


    ¡°With ninety-nine percent accuracy,¡± I read aloud. ¡°This test concludes¡­¡±


    I looked up at Dale, my mouth dropping open.


    ¡°He¡¯s your father.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I whispered. And that was really the question, for all of us.


    What, exactly, did that mean?


    I was going to call Ben. I really was. I was just planning out everything I was going to say in my head. And then he rang the doorbell in the middle of breakfast and John invited him in for pancakes.


    The first thing he did was hug me. I was coming back from the refrigerator with the syrup John had forgotten. I looked up and there he was in the kitchen.


    ¡°Sara, my God, I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re okay.¡± Ben hugged me tight. ¡°You could have been killed!¡±


    So much for not telling John about what had happened with the stepbeast.


    I had to sit down and tell the whole story over pancakes and everyone exclaimed how lucky I was to be alive. The phone rang and Chrissy was closest so she answered it.


    ¡°Your manager?¡± she said, holding the phone out to Dale.


    He sighed, getting up from the table to talk. He stretched the cord all the way down the hall. We had finished off the last of the pancakes and John got up to the dishes. I started to get up to help clear but Chrissy interrupted me.


    ¡°You sit down,¡± she insisted. ¡°I¡¯ll clear.¡±


    I blinked at her, too stunned to object.


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry I barged in like that,¡± Ben said. ¡°I just saw the article and got really worried.¡±


    ¡±I¡¯m okay,¡± I assured him, wondering how he even found the article. It had been buried. ¡°Bump on my head. Bloody lip.¡±


    ¡°I wish I¡¯d been there.¡± He shook his head, jaw tightening, a faraway look in his eyes.


    ¡°You read the article in the paper?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°No, online.¡±


    When I gave him a puzzle look he laughed. ¡°I forgot, you don¡¯t have a computer. I¡¯m going to have to get you guys online. I find everything online. News, weather.¡±


    ¡°So, umm¡­¡± I wasn¡¯t sure now how to tell him. ¡°Dale got something in the mail the other day¡­¡±


    ¡°The DNA results?¡± Ben smiled and winked. ¡°I got mine too. You¡¯re my girl.¡±


    I was surprised by his reaction, but in hindsight, it made sense. Of course he wasn¡¯t surprised. It just confirmed what he¡¯d been saying all along. So he was my father after all. My mother had lied to me. I could have known him my whole life, had some sort of relationship with him, and she had taken that away. But what kind of man was he? Maybe she had her reasons? Dale had been suspicious from the start¡ªbut Dale was always suspicious when it came to ¡°other men¡± in my life.


    ¡°Listen, Sara, I am so sorry about that investment thing.¡± Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair. ¡°I know it scared you off and I didn¡¯t mean¡­ I should have been more clear. I should have approached it differently. I just saw a great opportunity for you to invest in your future, that¡¯s all. It¡¯s not even my company or my idea. I just happen to think it¡¯s brilliant.¡±


    ¡°I guess it did put me off a little,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± He held up his hand.¡±I had a lot of time to think about it when you didn¡¯t return my calls.¡±


    ¡°Sorry about that. I¡­ have a habit of avoiding confrontation if I can.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t blame you for that.¡± He reached out and tucked a piece of stray hair behind my ear. ¡°But once I saw it from your perspective¡­ ugh. I just show up out of nowhere after seeing your picture in the paper, you¡¯ve got this rich and famous boyfriend, and me, dummy that I am, I end up talking to you about this investment thing. I could kick myself.¡±


    I met his eyes, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. Or was this just more of some plan? It was like Chrissy¡¯s sudden turn of attitude. I didn¡¯t quite trust it.


    ¡°Can you¡­ can we just have a do-over? I promise not to be such an idiot this time.¡±

 Page 28

    ¡°Well, if you promise¡­¡± I could give him another chance. There was no harm in that.


    ¡°Cross my heart.¡± He did, which made me laugh.


    Dale came back around the corner, slamming the phone down on the receiver.


    ¡°Uh oh, now what?¡± I groaned. I couldn¡¯t stand one more thing.


    ¡°Greg says they¡¯re presenting us with our platinum album plaques today.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, what a disaster.¡± Chrissy rolled her eyes.


    There was the Chrissy I remembered. I looked over at her and she grinned, shrugging one shoulder.


    Dale ignored her. ¡°They want the band there at four.¡±


    ¡°Today?¡± I made a face. ¡°We had dinner plans with Aimee and Matt.¡±


    ¡°I know. And the band¡¯s got a show at eight. He promised we were supposed to get a little break this week.¡±


    ¡°Well, we¡¯ll just have to go,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m not missing it.¡±


    ¡°Go where?¡± John asked, coming over, wiping his hands on a dish towel.


    And of course John wanted to come. And when Chrissy found out it was going to be on Sidney Clare Ramirez¡¯s talk show, she wanted to go too.


    ¡°Want to come, Ben? Sounds like the whole family is going to be there!¡± I wondered if I would ever start calling him ¡°Dad.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± he agreed. ¡°It¡¯s Saturday. I don¡¯t have to work.¡±


    I called Aimee and Matt and told them to come to the show taping¡ªwe¡¯d squeeze dinner in afterward. Then I called Greg to make sure he held enough tickets for all of us.


    ¡°Some of you may have to sit in the green room,¡± he said.


    ¡°Fine, just as long as we can be there.¡± I wasn¡¯t missing Black Diamond receiving their platinum album awards for anything. We¡¯d barely even had time to celebrate, but I mentioned it to Chelsea last night and she had given me a grin and a thumbs up so I knew she was on it.


    Ben went home to get changed and we all started getting ready. There were four of us to get through the shower and Dale alone could take an hour. He liked to just stand there under the water.


    John knocked on our bedroom door while Dale was in the shower, asking if he could bring a date.


    ¡°Debra?¡± I asked, raising my eyebrows. ¡°Getting serious.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± He actually blushed. He¡¯s stopped bringing her home when Chrissy was being such a brat. John called it her ¡°testing¡± phase. I called it her ¡°psycho bitch¡± phase but not out loud.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s up with her.¡± I nodded my head in the direction of Chrissy¡¯s room.


    ¡°You know, she¡¯s gotten a lot better,¡± John said. ¡°Her attitude¡¯s improved since you two have been gone. I think she felt jealous¡ªshe hasn¡¯t wanted to spend a lot of time with me since the divorce. I think she blamed me.¡±


    I looked at him, not saying anything. Chrissy knew the real reason for the divorce¡ªher mother was dead set on getting Tyler Vincent to leave his wife for her. And after having met her, I could tell she was a woman who got what she wanted¡ªand if she didn¡¯t, well¡­ I was sure her daughter came by her ¡°psycho bitch¡± side honestly.


    Of course, I couldn¡¯t say that. John knew nothing about Tyler¡ªstill thought Tyler was his friend. And of course, Tyler continued to play into that delusion. It was so sick and twisted it made everything in my family¡ªalcoholism, domestic violence, suicide¡ªpale in comparison.


    ¡°We¡¯ve had some long talks,¡± John went on. ¡°And she¡¯s started school and is doing well. I¡¯m¡­ hopeful.¡±


    ¡°She really is like a whole different person,¡± I said. It was true¡ªalthough I was still wary. ¡°Maybe she was just possessed by a demon before? Because I¡¯ve seen crazy, but that was¡­¡±


    ¡°Chrissy¡¯s always been a little dramatic,¡± he said with a smile.


    ¡°Right. And you¡¯re the master of understatement.¡±


    That made him laugh.


    By three o¡¯clock we all looked fabulous¡ªexcept John, who was still in his room.


    ¡°The van¡¯s waiting,¡± I called, knocking. ¡°Are you coming?¡±


    I gasped when he opened the door.


    ¡°John!¡± I even took a step back. ¡°Your beard! Your hair!¡±


    He always wore a bushy beard and his hair had been longer and thicker than mine. Well, it had been. Now it was gone. It wasn¡¯t quite as short as Dale¡¯s, but almost! He had always looked to me like the long-haired hippie English professor and that¡¯s pretty much what he was. The haircut and clean-shaven face gave him a totally different look.


    ¡°What¡¯s Debra going to say?¡± I wondered out loud.


    ¡°It was her idea.¡± He grinned and blushed at the same time. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°It makes you look younger.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s a plus!¡±


    We got to see Debra¡¯s when the van drove around to pick her up. Her eyes lit up and a slow smile spread across her face. And all of a sudden I felt like we needed to leave the two of them alone because she looked like she might eat him alive, which was rather awkward. She sat next to him and they held hands, talking quietly together for the rest of the ride.


    And for some reason, I couldn¡¯t stop smiling, the whole way there.


    CHAPTER SIXTEEN


    Sidney Clare¡¯s studio was downtown New York. We met Ben at the door, along with Aimee and Matt. Greg wasn¡¯t there but he left tickets for all of us. Someone came to direct special guests to their seats and a pretty brunette took Dale¡¯s sleeve and said, ¡°You¡¯re coming with me.¡±


    ¡°Not with me, he¡¯s not,¡± I countered, taking Dale¡¯s other hand.


    I¡¯d been in green rooms before. Lots of snacks. Lots of waiting. I glanced at the clock. It was almost four and the rest of the guys in the band hadn¡¯t arrived. I was getting worried.


    ¡°Greg did call them right?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he did.¡± Dale looked nervous¡ªas nervous as I felt.


    The intro music for Sidney Clare¡¯s show was starting. She a small woman who wore big, thick framed purple glasses¡ªher trademark¡ªand everyone said her name as if it was one word, SidneyClare. She was one of the more controversial talk-show hosts, pushing the boundaries of topic to the edge, although other talk show hosts were jumping on that bandwagon too. But her show wasn¡¯t taped. It was live and whatever happened¡ªhappened. The audience loved it, both at the show and at home. People got angry, threw chairs, punched each other. Sometimes when I flipped by, there was a free-for-all brawl. She actually kept security guards standing sentry on either side of the stage for every show.


    And she liked to surprise people for even greater impact. I remembered one story she did about a gay teenager who had a crush. She brought the crush on television under false pretenses and then sprang the gay crush on him. The crush didn¡¯t appreciate it too much, and after the show, he had murdered the gay teen and then killed himself.


    I glanced up at the screen and saw the show was starting. I felt Dale tense beside me.


    ¡°Turn it up!¡± he urged, feeling around on the couch for the remote. It was next to me on a table and I grabbed it, pushing ¡°volume¡± until we could hear the end of Sidney Clare¡¯s introduction.


    ¡°And here to talk about that is the man himself, Tyler Vincent!¡±


    The crowd burst into applause.


    ¡°What¡¯s he doing here?¡± I asked. ¡°Is he giving you the award?¡±


    It made some logical sense¡ªTyler had been the announcer at MTV¡¯s Battle of the Bands, although he hadn¡¯t been a judge. All the rumors already flying about nepotism were patently false. Tyler Vincent didn¡¯t have a direct say in whether Black Diamond won¡ªthere was a whole panel of judges who had decided that.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Dale frowned at the screen. ¡°But I don¡¯t like it.¡±


    I didn¡¯t like it either.


    Dale stood, arms crossed over his chest, as Sidney Clare asked Tyler questions about his music career, his movie career, his family, his wife. She¡¯s lulling him into a false sense of security, I thought. I imagined her like a viper, ready to strike.


    ¡°So I know you¡¯ve heard the reports, the rumors going around about Dale Diamond, lead singer of Black Diamond, being your son.¡±


    I froze. No. No no no no. John was in the audience. With Chrissy. And Debra.


    ¡°He does look a lot like you,¡± Sidney Clare noted.


    They showed two pictures, side by side, of Tyler and Dale. They¡¯d chosen two pictures that were alike. Both of them were holding guitars. Both of them were smiling at the audience. Thick, dark hair, that dimpled chin. The audience actually gasped when they saw both of them like that, next to each other. I remembered Dale coming into my chemistry class the very first day. Rumors were already flying about how he looked and acted a lot like Tyler Vincent.


    ¡°Stay here.¡± Dale pointed a finger at me. ¡°Do not move from that spot.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I asked as he headed for the door.


    ¡°He¡¯s not doing this. I¡¯m not going to let him do this.¡± Dale strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I stared after him, thinking I should follow. If he walked out on that stage¡­ and then I realized, that was exactly what she wanted to happen. This was a setup!


    ¡°Well, looks can be deceiving, Sidney.¡± Tyler went on. ¡°I can tell you with a very high degree of certainty that Dale is not my son. He¡¯s a great kid and an amazing musician. And I do know him and his family, they¡¯re wonderful people. But he isn¡¯t mine.¡±


    ¡°The papers are saying you had an affair with his mother,¡± Sidney Clare prompted, crossing her legs and leaning forward on the arm of her chair. ¡°Is that true?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Tyler hesitated, glanced out toward the audience and then back at Sidney Clare. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s true.¡±


    A collective gasp went up from the audience.


    ¡°How did it happen?¡± Sidney Clare prompted.


    ¡°It was a long time ago. I was teaching at a university in Maine and I met a man on the faculty named John Diamond. We became friends.¡±


    The television flashed to John, in the audience, and my stomach sank. They knew. They knew everything. This whole show was being orchestrated. So why was Tyler lying? Then I remembered John telling Chrissy¡ªhe¡¯d talked to Tyler, he said. They were going to fix it.


    I couldn¡¯t look away from the screen.


    ¡°John and I started hanging out, doing things together¡ªboating, fishing. Our wives got along. It was great for a while. Then¡­¡±


    ¡°Then?¡± Sidney Clare prompted.


    ¡°Then John¡¯s wife, Stacy¡­ started coming on to me.¡±


    ¡°How? What did she do?¡±


    The camera panned to the audience and they all looked like me¡ªon the edge of their seats.


    ¡°What didn¡¯t she do?¡± Tyler gave a short, bitter laugh. ¡°At first it was just verbal. Telling me how much she admired me. Talking about how unhappy she was in her marriage. Then she started finding me alone, brushing up against me. Trying to kiss me. I was shocked at first. Then¡­ flattered, I guess. And my wife and I¡ªwe were going through a rough time right about then. I guess it just all fell into place.¡±

 Page 29

    ¡°So you had an affair?¡±


    Tyler nodded. ¡°Yes, I did. It was brief¡ªa few months at most. I broke it off. And that¡¯s when things got¡­ crazy.¡±


    ¡°Crazy, what do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You saw the movie that came out a few years ago, with Glenn Close and Michael Douglas?¡±


    ¡°Fatal Attraction?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s it.¡± Tyler nodded, looking out at the audience. The man was a great actor. The look of helpless guilt and regret on his face was textbook. The whole audience was quiet, listening, and even sitting in the green room watching it unfold on the screen, I could feel the tide of public opinion turning. They¡¯re going to blame it on Dale¡¯s mother, I thought. And she wasn¡¯t even there to defend herself. I was starting to feel nauseous.


    ¡°Sidney, she was insane.¡± Tyler looked like he was on the verge of tears. ¡°I did a horrible thing. I know that. And I apologized to my wife and have spent every day since trying to make it up to her. But Stacy Diamond¡ªI guess she¡¯s Stacy Spencer now, she took her maiden name after the divorce.¡±


    ¡°Divorce? Did her husband find out?¡± Sidney Clare asked the question the whole audience wanted to know.


    ¡°I told him myself.¡±


    What?


    The camera panned to John, who looked sad, but otherwise gave no reaction.


    ¡°I had to,¡± Tyler went on. ¡°His wife was crazy. I mean, she made Glenn Close look sane. She threatened my wife, my family. She was obsessed with me. So I went to John and told him what was going on. And he got her the help she needed.¡±


    ¡°And that was the end of it?¡±


    ¡°I thought so.¡± Tyler sighed. ¡°John and I¡­ he¡¯s just a great guy. He forgave me, if you can believe that. We continued to remain friends. But things were never quite the same. He knew his wife was mentally ill but he did everything he could throughout his marriage to keep it from his children and I don¡¯t blame him. She was in therapy for a while and then they put her on medication. For a long time it worked.¡±


    Tyler paused and they panned to the audience again, all leaning forward, listening.


    ¡°Then she stopped taking her medication. And the obsession came back,¡± Tyler said. He had a flair for the dramatic, that was for sure. ¡°She was relentless. She wouldn¡¯t leave me alone. She pursued me endlessly. I didn¡¯t know what to do. For years, things had been fine. Now our kids were older, they were friends. It was a delicate situation.¡±


    ¡°Did you have sex with her again, Tyler?¡±


    ¡°Once.¡± He lowered his head. ¡°My wife was out at the store. All our kids were playing in the pool. John wasn¡¯t there that day. I believe he had to work. She came into my room while I was changing into my suit¡­¡±


    I gaped at the screen. It was the story Dale had told me¡ªhow he¡¯d found out his mother was having an affair. He¡¯d walked in on them that day.


    This was all planned, I realized. Perfectly orchestrated. John had told Chrissy he was going to ¡°call Tyler and fix it,¡± and here it was happening, live on national television. Dale wasn¡¯t going to be seen as a young kid trying to ride his father¡¯s coat tails into fame and fortune. After this, he would be seen as a victim. Tyler was taking the fall, but it would be Dale¡¯s mother everyone would blame.


    Just like Fatal Attraction. I shivered. Once Glenn Close started boiling bunnies, everyone had sympathy for poor Michael Douglas, who had done nothing except give into his basic, animal instincts after all. Poor man.


    ¡°She cornered me. I didn¡¯t want to. But I was afraid of what she might do or say. So I¡­ we did. We had sex.¡±


    ¡°Just that one time.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Tyler agreed. ¡°Unfortunately, Dale came into the room¡­ during¡­¡±


    ¡°He discovered you and his mother having sex?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Tyler cleared his throat. ¡°I tried to talk to him later but he wouldn¡¯t have anything to do with me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t blame him,¡± Sidney Clare snapped.


    Tyler didn¡¯t take the bait. He hung his head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t either.¡±


    The camera focused on Sidney Clare¡¯s face.


    ¡°When we come back, find out what Tyler Vincent did to try and protect his family from an obsessed fan.¡±


    Protect his family? They made him sound like a boy scout. And obsessed fan? She was a woman he was involved with for years! They¡¯d been lovers before Dale was born. Tyler even admitted as much.


    The screen showed commercials, just like the viewers at home saw. But I knew, down the hall, all of this was happening live. And Dale was walking right into the trap. I sprang from the sofa and rushed out the door. The hallways were numerous but there was a red arrow with ¡°studio¡± painted on each wall, showing the direction.


    I followed the arrows, coming out to a backstage area where crew was hurrying around, getting things done. I was familiar enough with a crew to know they probably wouldn¡¯t even pay attention to me¡ªuntil I walked out on the stage.


    But Dale beat me to it.


    He was on the other side, in the wings, just like me, but I didn¡¯t see him until he stalked out onto the stage. Tyler didn¡¯t see him coming. Dale could have stabbed him in the back and he wouldn¡¯t have known it until the knife was between his shoulder blades. But Sidney Clare saw him coming. Her eyes widened as Dale approached.


    ¡°Uh¡­ Tyler¡­¡± She had a mic on so everyone heard it. The audience gasped as Dale faced his father. Tyler stood the minute Dale came around that side of the sofa. They stood there talking, but Tyler had muffled his mic. I couldn¡¯t hear anything. And neither could the audience.


    ¡°We¡¯re live in twenty seconds.¡± The announcement over the PA startled me.


    ¡°Sit down!¡± Sidney Clare stood, trying to get Tyler to take his seat again, but he and Dale were still in a heated argument. ¡°This is a live show! Sit down now!¡±


    She was half their size but she got her way. Tyler finally relented. Dale stood for a moment, glanced at the camera, and then took a seat on the couch with Tyler¡ªas far away as he could get.


    ¡°Welcome back.¡± Sidney Clare smiled, looking as poised as ever. ¡°Today I have with me¡­¡±


    Sidney recapped things for viewers just tuning in, also introducing Dale, who was brooding on the other end of the sofa.


    ¡°So Dale. ¡°Sidney leaned in, just like she had with Tyler, using that same, kind, soft voice that meant, tell me everything, I¡¯m your friend. ¡°How do you feel about everything you¡¯ve heard so far.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s bullshit,¡± he snapped. ¡°This man is a liar and a coward. I don¡¯t like him, I never have, and I¡¯ve spent most of my life trying not to be like him. I¡¯m ashamed that he¡¯s my father. I wish he wasn¡¯t. But wishing doesn¡¯t make things true.¡±


    I knew, somewhere, Greg Richer was having a heart attack. He¡¯d set this whole thing up, I was sure of it, to clear Dale¡¯s name and dissociate him from Tyler as much as possible. This was television¡ªthey could make everyone believe a lie. It was easy.


    ¡°How do you know, Dale?¡± Sidney Clare asked gently.


    ¡°What?¡± Dale glared at her. ¡°How do I know he¡¯s my father? My mother told me so. She told me everything. The affair started before me and my sister were even born.¡±


    ¡°Your sister?¡± Sidney Clare prompted. I glanced at the screen overhead and sure enough, the camera was on Chrissy. They planned it all.


    And now Dale was ruining all their plans, simply because he couldn¡¯t stand by and watch Tyler sitting up there and telling more lies, denying everything Dale knew to be true. If Dale had just kept his mouth shut and gone along with it, the world would have believed Tyler Vincent. He was a consummate actor, a master manipulator.


    I could hear Greg in my head. What are you doing, Dale? What the hell are you doing?


    But there was no way to stop him. Dale was going to tell the truth and force Tyler to tell it too. Finally, a lifetime of secrets would be over. I knew he was putting his career in jeopardy. I knew he was risking the tide of public opinion turning against him, seeing him as a young moocher, trying to take the shortcut to become some sort of rock star. I knew, if the execs at MTV got wind of it and decided to take back Black Diamond¡¯s win at the Battle of the Bands two years ago, it would mar Dale¡¯s career as a musician for the rest of his life. The consequences of telling the truth now were huge.


    And I couldn¡¯t have been more proud of him for walking out there and doing it.


    ¡°So tell me again, how do you know this man¡¯s your father?¡±


    ¡°My mother,¡± Dale said simply. ¡°She told me herself. She even left my father for him.¡±


    ¡°Dale, listen to me.¡± Sidney Clare leaned forward. ¡°I understand that¡¯s the truth you¡¯ve lived with. But what if what Tyler says is true?¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t.¡± Dale shook his head, adamant. ¡°My dad¡ªJohn Diamond¡ªhe¡¯s the best man I know. If I could a pick a father out of all the men I¡¯ve known in my life, it would be John Diamond. I¡¯m proud to have his name. And I¡¯m grateful to have had the opportunity to be raised by him.¡±


    I felt my eyes stinging with tears. The camera showed John, eyes glistening. Next to him, Debra took his hand. Chrissy was on his other side, tears sliding down her face as she leaned her cheek against his shoulder.


    ¡°But the truth is, John can¡¯t have kids.¡± Dale sighed. ¡°My parents had problems having kids early in their marriage. They had all the usual tests. My dad has a low sperm count.¡±


    The audience gasped. I blinked in surprise, looking from the Dale on stage to the Dale on screen. He¡¯d never told me that. No wonder he was so sure that Tyler was his real father?


    ¡°My mother showed me the lab results when I didn¡¯t want to believe her¡ªwhen she told me Tyler was my father,¡± Dale said. ¡°She never told my dad¡ªJohn. Damn it, he¡¯s my dad. He¡¯s the man I¡¯ve called dad all my life and I¡¯m not going to stop now.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Sidney Clare soothed.


    I wanted to run out there on stage and put my arms around him. He was so brave.


    ¡°So John, the man who raised you¡ªhe didn¡¯t know any of this?¡± she prompted.


    ¡°My mother didn¡¯t want him to know about Tyler,¡± Dale said. ¡°And neither did I. When I found out my younger sister knew, I swore her to secrecy. When they divorced, I thought it would finally come out, but it didn¡¯t. No one talked about it.¡±


    ¡°So you were protecting John?¡± Sidney asked.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He looked out into the audience, finding his dad, their eyes locked. ¡°That¡¯s what you do for people you love.¡±


    Now I was really crying, tears just streaming down my face.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, son.¡± Tyler put a hand on Dale¡¯s shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what people do when they love someone. No one likes to watch someone they love in pain.¡±


    Tyler calling Dale ¡°son.¡± I felt a lump rising in my throat. Was he saying that he was there, trying to protect Dale?

 Page 30

    ¡°Your father loves you.¡± Tyler pointed out into the audience.


    The camera zoomed in on John. He looked so different without the beard and all his long hair! I wouldn¡¯t have recognized him. I frowned, something clenching in my belly as I looked at his face filling the screen. I had a moment of d¨¦j¨¤ vu or more like a sudden flash of memory or recognition.


    ¡°That¡¯s your father, Dale.¡± Tyler he said. ¡°I know you love your mother and you want to protect her too. But everything I¡¯ve said here today is the truth". And your father knows it.¡±


    I saw John nodding, his eyes locked on his son, sitting on stage.


    Dale frowned, looking from John to Tyler and back again.


    ¡°We need to take a break,¡± Sidney Clare announced. ¡°Stay tuned for more on this fascinating family celebrity drama.¡±


    Is that what it was? Fascinating celebrity drama?


    As soon as the cameras cut off I ran onto the stage. As I predicted, the crew didn¡¯t even notice me until I did.


    Dale put his arms around me, pulling be down to the sofa beside him.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay!¡± Sidney Clare informed the crew, waving them back. ¡°She¡¯s his girlfriend.¡±


    ¡°Dale, are you okay?¡± I ignored her and Tyler and everyone else.


    He gave me a slow nod but I knew better. Inside, it was turmoil. I could see it in his eyes.


    ¡°I think¡­¡± He hesitated, looking up and seeing John and Chrissy both coming onto the stage, Debra following tentatively behind.


    Dale stood as his father approached and I¡¯ll never forget the look of confusion on his face. And it was that moment I saw it, really saw it. Dale wasn¡¯t Tyler¡¯s. John and Dale had the same blue eyes, the same high cheek bones, the same dimpled chin. John¡¯s features had been so covered in hair, his eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses, I¡¯d never noticed it before.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± John put his arms around Dale and brought him in for a huge hug. I cried just seeing them together like that. Chrissy leaned against her father¡¯s side and he included her too, the three of them standing on stage, one little family that had been the victim of more than enough drama in their lives.


    ¡°I was just trying to protect you,¡± John said. I saw he was crying too. ¡°Your mother¡­ when she¡¯s not on her medication, she has these mood swings. She¡¯s very volatile. I wanted to protect you from that. From her obsessions and her lies. I had no idea¡­ I didn¡¯t know, until Chrissy told me, that she¡¯d convinced you both you weren¡¯t even my children.¡±


    ¡°She told me Dad didn¡¯t want me,¡± Chrissy said, her lower lip trembling. ¡°She told me he only wanted you, because you were a boy. So I stayed¡­ I stayed with her. Dale, she got so bad. Finally, Dad convinced her she needed to get help, go back on her medication.¡±


    ¡°She really is out of control when she¡¯s not on her medications,¡± John said sadly. ¡°She will go to great lengths to convince you to believe in her delusions. But I can assure you both, we never had a problem conceiving. You¡¯re both very much my children.¡±


    ¡°Psst.¡± Sidney Clare tried to interrupt their little threesome. ¡°Um, can you save some of this for when we come back live? This is great stuff!¡±


    I stared at her, disbelieving.


    ¡°Fuck you, lady.¡± Dale shook his head. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go home.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Sidney Clare called after us as we started off stage. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to hear the DNA results? Tyler has a blood test that proves¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need proof,¡± Dale replied, looking straight at John. ¡°This is my father. And I believe him.¡±


    Backstage, the crew was going crazy, trying to get us all back onto the stage. We all refused, so Sidney Clare continued to talk to Tyler. I saw some of it as John and Dale and Chrissy stood there talking and hugging and telling each other things they¡¯d never shared aloud to one another before.


    Tyler did have DNA evidence. He¡¯d done it, he said, to prove to Dale¡¯s mother once and for all that he wasn¡¯t the father of her children. She accused him of faking the test, switching samples. She simply wouldn¡¯t believe.


    Then Ben came backstage, giving me a giant hug before he said anything at all.


    ¡°You sure you want me as a daughter?¡± I asked. ¡°We¡¯re a pretty crazy family.¡±


    ¡°You know what?¡± Ben asked, smiling down at me. ¡°I¡¯ve found sometimes the best things in life are crazy.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I smiled. ¡°You¡¯re going to fit in just find around here.¡±


    ¡°Aimee!¡± I cried, waving her and Matt over. They¡¯d found their way backstage. ¡°Oh my god, you look gorgeous!¡±


    ¡°I look fat.¡± She made a face, rolling her eyes and smoothing her hands over her growing belly. ¡°But she¡¯s growing just fine, so I can live with it for nine months I guess. Looks like we¡¯ll have a Christmas baby.¡±


    ¡°She?¡± I raised my eyebrows. ¡°For sure, a girl?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°I think Matt wanted a boy but¡­¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Matt shook his head. ¡°I just have to make sure I get myself a shotgun to sit on the porch with.¡±


    I laughed.


    ¡°Well since the gang¡¯s all here, how about we go to dinner before my son has to go play his music in front of thirty thousand fans?¡± John suggested, his arm around Dale¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Proud Papa.¡± I kissed John on his now very smooth cheek.


    ¡°I have to make a phone call first,¡± Dale said.


    I looked at him, questioning.


    ¡°I have to fire my manager,¡± he said, glancing up at Tyler still talking to Sidney Clare. ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate being ambushed.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t argue. He¡¯s never liked me. But I think he was just trying to protect you,¡± I offered.


    ¡°No.¡± Dale shook his head. ¡°My father was trying to protect me. My manager was trying to protect his investment.¡±


    ¡°Can you blame him?¡± I smiled, putting my arms around his neck. ¡°You¡¯re worth it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done keeping secrets.¡± Dale touched his forehead to mine. ¡°I¡¯m done with lies.¡±


    ¡°Me too.¡±


    ¡°You pick the date. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s on camera in front of a zillion people or at the highest mountain at the edge of the world. You name the time and the place and I¡¯ll be there. I¡¯m going to marry you.¡±


    ¡°You promise?¡± I could see the shine of my ring under the lights.


    ¡°I promise.¡± His words flooded me with warmth.


    ¡°You know what that will make me?¡±


    He smirked. ¡°Mrs. Sara Diamond.¡±


    ¡°The luckiest girl in the world.¡±


    EPILOGUE


    ¡°Sara?¡± Aimee snapped her fingers in front of my face. ¡°Earth to Sara!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I startled. ¡°I¡¯m right here.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be here,¡± she insisted, coming up behind me and adjusting the veil that had been adjusted a hundred times today.


    ¡°I know.¡± I looked at myself in the free-standing full-length mirror that had been set up. Dale hadn¡¯t seen the dress¡ªI had to hold onto some traditions. But we were definitely not throwing bouquets or garters.


    ¡°He¡¯s here!¡± Wendy burst into the room, followed by Carrie. ¡°They flew him in on a helicopter!¡±


    I smiled, looking at all three of them. ¡°Remember when we did this at your wedding, Aimee?¡±


    ¡°It was the perfect wedding.¡± She sighed. ¡°Until a bunch of screaming teenagers crashed in to see your boyfriend.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still sorry about that.¡± I winced.


    ¡°It will make a great story to tell the grandkids,¡± she said.


    ¡°I think Dharma has a little while to wait before she¡¯s ready to give you grandkids,¡± I said with a laugh. As if on cue, Mrs. Wells came in, bouncing a baby on her hip.


    ¡°She¡¯s hungry, little Mama and I don¡¯t have the equipment.¡±


    Aimee laughed. ¡°Hand her over. I have a minute to nurse her.¡±


    I¡¯d been so touched when Aimee said they wanted to name her Dharma. It meant some little part of her lived on. I didn¡¯t believe in fate or superstition, but Aimee¡¯s Dharma reminded me of my own in ways I couldn¡¯t even explain.


    ¡°I¡¯m loving this one wedding a year thing,¡± Wendy said, smoothing down the deep velvet purple of her dress. ¡°I get these dresses hemmed and they¡¯re perfect for a night on the town!¡±


    ¡°Yes, because we have so many of those,¡± Carrie said with a smirk.


    ¡°We would, if you weren¡¯t such a homebody.¡± Wendy poked her.


    ¡°We were just talking about the girls who crashed my wedding, Mom,¡± Aimee said, changing the subject.


    ¡°Oh what a disaster that was.¡± Mrs. Wells shook her head. ¡°Well that won¡¯t happen here!¡±


    ¡°No way.¡± Carrie shook her head. ¡°Not even possible.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s time.¡± Debra stuck her head in, smiling at me. ¡°You are just the most beautiful bride I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I smiled. ¡°I hope he thinks so.¡±


    ¡°He already does.¡± Aimee said, standing up. Dharma had clearly decided she just wanted a little snack. ¡°Ready?¡±


    I took a deep breath, picking up my bouquet of freesia and lavender and daisies, and stepped outside of the tent. The wind up here was strong and I reached for my veil.


    ¡°I got it.¡± Debra secured a few more pins. ¡°If you¡¯re going to have a wedding at the top of a mountain in Greece, you have to be ready with extra bobby pins.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I leaned over and kissed her cheek. She was the closest thing I had to a mother and I couldn¡¯t have asked for better.


    ¡°I¡¯m here, I¡¯m here!¡± Chrissy ran out of one of the tents set up for guests wearing her bridesmaids dress and matching heels. ¡°Am I late?¡±


    ¡°You just made it.¡± Deb laughed.


    ¡°Okay girls, let¡¯s line up,¡± Mrs. Wells directed. ¡°Sara, you start over there.¡±


    I turned and saw John, clean-shaven, his hair still short¡ªhe¡¯d decided he liked it¡ªstanding next to Ben. They both looked incredibly handsome in their tuxes and they both smiled back at me as I approached.


    Dale Diamond was waiting for me at the top of the world, in a gazebo we had actually paid someone to build. They had to bring up the pieces, they told me, by donkey. I didn¡¯t ask how that worked, exactly, but the gazebo was there and Dale was in it.


    Today was our day. Dale was waiting for me. And I had two men who loved me, two men I proudly called, ¡°Dad,¡± to walk me down the aisle.


    I really was the luckiest girl in the world.