Chapter 2
Chapter two
Rhys
Brokenhearted Hero Card
"Rhys, are you seriously upset?"
I blink rapidly in the direction of my publicist, Zara Steinbeck, who is looking at me like I just told her pigs fly because I just patented strap-on, remote controlled, mini helicopter backpacks for them.
I take a breath and massage the bridge of my nose.
"Yes Z, I’m upset. I just found out my boyfriend is cheating on me because a gossip site posted pictures of him feeling up an actress outside a club!
" My chest deflates and I crash down on the sofa. It doesn’t matter if I keep my eyes wide open or shut them tight, the image of the man I had been planning to propose to with his hand on the tit of the siren starlette cannot be avoided.
Fuck, I’m an idiot.
"But I thought you two were just a PR thing?" Zara slowly slides down into the opposite corner of the sofa. "I mean, I’m basically going steady with his team at this point."
I rake my fingers through my hair, my knuckles sore from the tattoos I got refreshed a few days ago. The words WILD HOPE span my fists.
But maybe I should have gotten LONE WOLF instead.
"I dunno Zar, it made sense because of the movie and the soundtrack and yeah it helped establish both our sexualities to the public but," I trail off with an exhale as the memories of our seven months together rapid fire in my mind.
On our first date, I showed up early and my new beau, Mike Kerr, strolled in thirty minutes later. It was exciting. Here I was about to date hotshot, hunky actor, Mike Kerr. People around Nashville know me but everyone knows him.
And knows to pronounce it, Meek Car.
He walked up tot he table and before I could even stand up to shake his hand he leaned over and kissed my cheek.
He grinned.
I grinned.
And then he teased me about being early. All throughout dinner he kept mentioning how opposites attract. The heat in my cheeks was only fueled by the golden heat in my chest. I remember feeling like bubbles in a glass of champagne. Floaty with a bite.
He left an abhorrent tip after we split the check and winked at our waitress as we left.
Everyone he crossed paths with was left smiling.
Even me.
Then at the movie premiere a month later he waited on the red carpet and we got a few photos together.
It was technically our first public appearance and it felt incredible to be claimed by this A List actor.
The entire movie promotion season was wild and it barely prepared me for the chaos of award season.
Glitz and glamor was exciting but exhausting.
It felt like a blessing that he couldn't make it to The CMAs or The Grammys. A little less attention was fine by me.
My favorite night together was something impromptu.
There wasn’t an event on the calendar but we went out for dinner before he went back to L.A.
for the holidays. I invited him to my house, which he was all about.
And, yeah, that part was really fun but it wasn’t my favorite part of the night.
As I slid into sweats after a shower, he turned to me with mischief in his eyes and asked if I wanted to go see Christmas Lights with him.
Giddiness floated up through my body. I giggled and nodded yes.
We got dressed again, and he drove us to The Dancing Lights of Christmas out in Lebanon, TN. He paid the $35 and winked at the attendant saying, "Just make sure the license plate is blurred out when you share your social media post."
I shook my head in affection because he was always doing that, accepting he’d have his photo taken and that it would be shared.
He never discouraged people, just playfully set the boundary for his safety.
Things like license plates, or asking them to wait to post it for twenty minutes so he could make a clean getaway.
The elicit gift of permission left them feeling naughty. I could see it in their faces.
I felt it myself.
I felt everything.
And it was all a lie.
"Acting is the right career for him then, huh." Zara says with a sad trombone half smile. She inhales deeply and exhales loudly. "Welp, we have two ways to play it."
I close my eyes wishing I could sink into a broken heart like a normal person because right now I feel like Christmas lights that have been left out all winter just unplugged.
Visible, but an eyesore. A reminder of how joyful things used to be.
But I’m country music’s current crush so instead of wallowing, I have, or as Zara insists "get", to turn this into a strategic career move.
She takes my lack of response as her green light.
"First, I could try and get you into a new PR relationship ASAP." Zara says as she scrolls. "Make it seem like you two had been on the rocks for a while and now you're both moving on."
The idea of it sinks like a boulder to the bottom of the loch.
As much as I hate Mike right now, things weren’t on the rocks. At least not for me.
We just did a joint appearance in our best pastels for an Easter Egg hunt at The Zoo. He was affectionate and attentive but he didn’t want to drive all the way out to my house afterwards. He promised me he’d visit soon.
But "soon" never came, did it?
"What's the other option?"
"We play the brokenhearted hero card."
I need this meeting to be over. I might die if I don’t burrow into the corner of this sofa in dirty sweats with a pint, no, gallon of ice cream on my lap soon. But real soon. Not "Meek Car" soon. "Which is?"
"Your general moping and brooding." I can do that. "Maybe we have you hideaway for a bit, say you're channeling your sadness into song." Yes please. But, her suddenly straight spine and sparkling eyes have me hesitating. "Actually, yeah."
I watch wearily as she stands up and starts to pivot a few paces in each direction on the other side of the coffee table as she splays her fingers as wide as she can while clutching two phones in one hand.
"Let's send you somewhere sort of remote, like we can get pictures of you at the airport and then encourage the paps to leave you alone.
" She slides one phone into the other hand.
"The story will be you're off for some R&R and writing and then we'll fast track the production of this next album and people will be like," she adopts a high-pitched falsetto voice, "oh swoon, this is the album he wrote when his heart was plumb broken and I know he's gayer than Batman and Robin but if only he met me, I'd turn him. "
"You're an asshole." I say with a bit of a laugh.
"I might be, but I do my job." She unlocks one of her phones and starts tapping away with her thumbs. "And I know exactly where to send you."
"Where?"
"Home."
"I am home." My brow furrows as I gesture around the sprawling Tennessee home we're currently scheming in.
"No, home home."
I close my eyes and breathe. "Why?"
"Because you haven't been in ages and it's the perfect spot. We'll get photos at Heathrow or Inverness, I'm looking for flights now. Then you can scurry off to your family's highlands estate with security and sprawling grounds and I will be able to control the narrative."
"Alright." I pull my own phone from my pocket. I guess I should give Ma and Da a heads up. I'm coming home. Alone.