37. Monroe
37
MONROE
“ T here she is—the woman of the hour.” Ember greets me on the tarmac with a latte in her hand.
She holds it out to me, and I accept it with a weak smile.
“Good to see you.” I wrap my arm around her waist, inhaling her familiar perfume before climbing the stairs into my private plane.
I collapse on the white leather, sighing deeply.
Fidel reaches down to squeeze my hand. “Hey, girl. How was your break? You sure caused a stir. We need to talk about that new song I heard a rumor about. The label is very interested in the potential of a new album in the works.”
I smile up at Fidel, feeling a little lighter now that I’m actually face-to-face with him. I texted him and told him I was writing something new and singing it at the small wedding. “I’m working on it, but I’m not ready to discuss it with them. I need space for my creative juices to flow.”
He pats my hand knowingly. “I know, sweetheart, and I’m holding them off. Just wanted you to know they’re talking big numbers whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m sure they are.”
“Where’s lover boy?” Ember asks, taking the seat across from me. “I expected you two to be smooching the whole way to Nashville.”
I tap my phone, revealing a blank screen. No texts. No calls. My chest squeezes.
“I told him to stay with his family for another week. If he’s going to upend his whole life and go full-time with the tour, I want him to be sure before he commits. I need to focus on the Country Music Awards and the US leg of the tour.”
I haven’t told Cash that I love him. Part of me feels guilty for it, but I just can’t stick my neck out there like that without knowing if he really wants to give up part of his life to be with someone like me, on the road and in the spotlight half the time. Every relationship I’ve been in crashed and burned in front of millions of people. I couldn’t take it if it ended like that with Cash. It would break me. He didn’t argue when I suggested he stay at the ranch for another week.
When Clint got a taste of fame, he dove in head first and ended up drowning our relationship in the process. I know Cash is the complete opposite, but the scars from my past run deep.
Ember nods, turning her head to look out the window. “Wow. So, what happened with the stalker? One minute, you were afraid to go anywhere without Cash, and now, you’re just happy to leave him behind and trust Danny and the guys? ”
I don’t know how much to share with her, but I know that whatever Cash did wasn’t legal. I’ll do anything to protect him.
“Doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s not going to be a problem anymore, thank the Lord. I can finally relax.”
The truth is, I feel the complete opposite of relaxed. I feel hollow somehow, like there’s a hole in my chest. I close my window shade before kicking my seat back.
“So, are you two together?” she pushes. “Katherine has been bugging me about it.”
I don’t know why, but her line of questions is grating on my nerves.
“For once, I’d really like to keep my personal life personal . Do I need to have that conversation with Katherine?” My words have a bite to them that I don’t intend for them to.
Ember hesitates, twisting her hands in her lap. “Of course. I’ll let her know.”
“I’m going to sleep on the way.” I grab the blanket next to my seat, pulling it up over me.
I know Ember doesn’t deserve this type of backlash from me, but she doesn’t have a clue what happened in the last few weeks, except what she’s seen in the media. My team pushes their limits sometimes when it comes to monetizing my entire life. I don’t feel safe sharing anything with them until I find out who paid Kacie to take a photo of me and Cash hooking up. Cash thinks it was the same person who was feeding the stalker information about me, and that person has to be close to me somehow.
It could be anyone looking to make a buck, and whoever it is literally bargained with my life.
My mother flew into Nashville for the CMAs and is running around my hotel suite, chattering about her latest trip to an art convention, where she met a new man she’s in love with, of course, after only a few weeks of knowing him.
“You should see his nude sculptures, dear. I posed for one, and the experience was completely cathartic.”
I nod, staring out the window blankly. “Sounds amazing, Mom. What’s his name?”
“Steven. Oh, no! Oops! Ha-ha. It’s Harry. He’s in Milan right now.” She waves a manicured hand in the air. “I told him you played a show there recently, but he’s a little older than your fan base, of course. I think we’re going to spend the summer in the Maldives. You should come stay for a week! You look like you need a little sun.”
“I’ll be on tour all summer, Mom.”
I used to ask her to join me for some of the dates on the road, but she would end up getting angry and flying off the handle after watching me be in the spotlight for too long. My mother loves me in her own way, but she likes to use my status as a celebrity for clout and to make friends while keeping me at a distance. If I’m too close, she envies the way I steal the attention. She’ll attend awards shows in hopes of the cameras panning to her and more people recognizing her when she’s out. The red-carpet-walk photo will be her new profile picture, but only if they take it of her alone, without me in it. I feel like she’s constantly trying to prove to herself and to the world that she deserves to be where she is now, despite having a famous daughter. Marrying a millionaire who died an untimely death a few years ago has helped her join a crowd she was never welcome in before.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I know you’re busy. Is anyone interesting going to be at our table tonight? I really want a photo with Tim McGraw and Faith Hill this year.”
“You’ll have to ask Ember. I don’t remember who we’re sitting with.”
My focus has been a dumpster fire this week. I can’t keep my mind on anything, except for obsessively checking my phone screen every hour. I tap it again, sighing when I see the only people who have reached out are Katherine and my designer for tonight.
No matter how hard I try not to, I keep crying myself to sleep. Cash checks in on me once a day, but other than that, I haven’t heard from him. It’s only been three days, but it feels like months since I felt his hand wrapped around my waist, calluses scraping against my skin. I miss the feel of his lips on mine, his exhale on my ear, his weight pressing me into his mattress.
I have to be patient and give him time to decide. He’s confessed his love for me, but hasn’t said anything about a future or an official relationship. Once he leaves the bubble of the ranch and gets back into the madness of my life, he could change his mind…
I lift my chin as Ember opens the door, marching into the suite with a team of hair and makeup artists in her wake. She claps her hands together.
“Ladies! I hope you got your beauty sleep. Hey, Ms. Morrigan. You look younger every time I see you. What’s the secret to reverse aging?” Ember smiles at my mom.
My mother laughs, waving Ember off with a shake of her blonde head.
Brooks is right on the heels of the team, striding in with a somber expression. Whatever flirtation was going on between him and Ember has long dissipated. I haven’t asked him what happened, but she told me that he was talking to other women behind her back. For some reason, I find that hard to believe, but I don’t know why she would lie to me about it.
“Food should be here in ten, and the Vogue stylist is coming in three hours with your dresses.” Ember taps on her iPad while talking. Her violet-red hair shines with a fresh color job. She smiles up at me. “Need anything else?”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
Ember smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Mom is chatting with the makeup artist who’s setting up her products to get started. The hairstylist is doing the same. I go take my seat, inspecting my recently manicured nails.
“I’ve got to go meet the caterer downstairs. I’ll be back in a jiff.” Ember exits.
My eyes trail over to where Brooks is standing near the door. He’s in his soldier stance, eyes surveying the hair and makeup artists. I find myself standing to walk over toward him.
He nods. “Ma’am.”
“I have a question for you.”
He stiffens. “Okay. ”
I lower my voice and lean closer to him. “Have you heard from Cash?”
His jaw flexes as his eyes meet mine. “I just talked to him.”
I stand up straighter. “Well, what did he say?”
“He asked me to keep a close eye on you and not to quit yet.”
“You were going to quit?”
He nods.
“Why?”
He clears his throat, looking around the room. “It’s not the job. It’s Ember.”
“I get it. What happened between you two?”
He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “She was sleeping with someone else the entire time.” He shrugs. “She played me.”
I study his face for a moment, trying to determine if he’s telling the truth. I don’t detect any hint of a lie.
“Who was it? Someone on the tour?”
He nods.
“Who?” I whisper.
He blows out a slow breath. “It was Zade.”
My vision blurs. I take a step back, my jaw falling open. “Ember and Zade?”
Brooks reaches out a hand to grip my forearm, steadying me. “I’m sorry. I think she was keeping it from everyone.”
The betrayal cuts me like a knife. It’s not Zade I’m shocked by—he’d fuck a rock if it smiled at him. It’s my best friend—the girl who’s been through so much with me—that I’m completely floored by. She’s been my assistant and close friend for over five years.
She held me while I cried about my breakup with Clint, about the embarrassment of him cheating on me and mistreating me the entire relationship when I continued to forgive him, to give him chance after chance. Ember was the one who put me back together. She was the one who bought me wine and told me that all men sucked and we didn’t need them anyway.
My stomach roils, rejecting my breakfast.
“Are you telling the truth—you swear to me? You’re one hundred percent sure?” I implore him with my eyes. My bottom lip trembles.
His eyes soften, and he nods. “I’m sure. I saw the messages between them. They were sexting, talking about their night together and … about you.”
Tears well in my eyes. I wasn’t expecting this. I’ve been getting weird vibes from her since the tour break started, but this … this is so twisted, even for a girl who’s always had a problem with jealousy. I stumble toward the bathroom.
“Monroe, I’m ready for you, honey,” the hairstylist calls to me.
I nod dumbly, still ambling to the bathroom. “Be right there,” I mumble before shutting myself off in the bathroom.
I lock the door before crumbling against it, sliding down to my butt and hugging my knees to my chest as my whole world shatters.