22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tyler
F rom across the gym, Katie’s gaze drilled into me. Seeing her wasn’t a shock. There were only so many gyms in a small town, and she liked places with fitness classes.
Maggie’s best friend, Lila, picked this gym a little less than a year ago when she talked me into bulking up for the charity Magic Men show. After the tour, I came back out of habit and because the exercise helped clear my head from thoughts of Mia.
My preoccupation with her was bad on tour, but it was almost unbearable now that we lived together, slept together every night, since she started to feel like a life partner rather than just a partner in this strange deal.
As I eased down the weights, Katie approached out of my peripheral vision. Since I slipped the note in her mailbox, we’d avoided speaking except at the hospital. While I didn’t think my prior feelings for Katie could overshadow what was developing with Mia, I’d clung to my residual love for so long, I couldn’t be sure what would happen once Katie sliced open those wounds.
“You’re lifting heavy nowadays.” Katie’s smile was hesitant. “I didn’t know you were this into fitness. ”
“There are probably things you’ve done in the last eight years I’d be surprised about, too.” The biggest one was that she left at all. I plucked the disinfectant spray from beside the machine and wiped down the equipment, avoiding eye contact.
One social media post from anyone in the gym, and Mia would know I talked to Katie. For some reason, Mia began monitoring all her mentions on every platform after her birthday party. Occasionally, she read them out, laughing or raging about whatever was written. Being stuck in the train station didn’t help with her boredom scrolling.
“I’m sorry, Katie. I really can’t talk to you.”
“She’s got you so far under her thrall you can’t have a casual conversation with me in public?”
Suppressing my anger at her tone, I set the spray in its holder and made eye contact. “Honestly, it’s none of your business what arrangement Mia and I have about anything.” I grabbed my towel from beside the weights and wiped my forehead. “I made a promise. I honor those.”
“I was so sorry to hear about your dad. He was such a kind man.” Katie didn’t miss a beat, as though I hadn’t said anything at all.
Being around Katie raised my hackles, made me question too many things. My defenses were up before she even approached. The desire to lash out, to be rude, to hurt her lay just under the surface. With every interaction, the impulse rose a little closer to the surface. Eight years . The bitter tang was surprising. I’d genuinely thought I was over the abandonment.
Shit happened. She left. Move on, Tyler. That had been my motto. Lately, I was praying I didn’t need that motto a second time.
“I appreciate your concern.” I couldn’t help my frosty tone. Katie hadn’t come to the funeral, sent a card, or even emailed. Maybe she was sorry, but she hadn’t been sorry enough when it mattered, when my heart had been ripped out of my chest at my father’s loss.
“If you need anything, you can call me.”
“I can’t do that.” I rubbed my forehead.
“Right, yeah, it’s just—I was part of the family for ten years.”
She followed behind while I made my way toward the locker rooms. I wasn’t done with my workout, but if she couldn’t honor what I asked for in my note, I couldn’t stay here. Mia didn’t deserve to have some speculative bullshit splashed across social media. Already, a few people had their phones out. Whether that was for selfies or to post something, I couldn’t be sure.
People in town had latched onto the Pretty Boy hashtag Mia started months ago, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to be tagged in random photos of me from around town. The whole social media barrage was strange. Why did anyone care that I bought some milk in workout clothes? But there was no doubt if that was news, then this conversation with Katie would be a golden nugget to anyone who knew our history. Making a scene would only make it worse.
“I said we could talk when things settled down. That’s not right now, and it’s definitely not here.”
“It’s just—” She twisted her hands together, and there was a desperate tinge to her voice. I hated noticing the differences in her, seeing things in her behavior that other people might not. My heart contracted at the hurt oozing out of her. “I thought I knew what was going on with you two, but now I’m not sure. And—and I’m worried I might never get to talk to you.”
My curiosity flickered. I’d assumed she knew the cover story was bullshit. Why would a world-famous pop star agree to be my surrogate? Our arrangement was ludicrous. “When she’s gone, okay? We can talk when she’s gone.”
“So, she is going? I thought—well, looking at you two during the appointments, I thought maybe her intentions might have changed.”
Everything had changed, at least for me. I wanted Mia to stay, wanted a life with her so badly, it was a constant ache underpinning everything. “Nothing has changed.” Leaning into the door with my shoulder, I gave her one last glance. “When she’s gone, I promise.”
While I stripped to shower, my mind kept returning to the desperation in Katie’s voice. Why now?
As soon as I was in the shower, my phone buzzed on the bench outside the door. My head was still too caught up in Katie’s plea to answer. The water streaming down was a good reason to avoid whoever was calling.
When my phone buzzed again, I frowned. My family and Mia were the only ones persistent enough to hang up and immediately call again.
Opening the door, I checked the display.
Mia .
Any time she called repeatedly like this, my heart raced with anxiety. Now that we were so close to the baby’s birth, my heart leapt into my throat. Under protest, she packed a hospital bag the other day. Labor terrified her. With my online MD, I’d read many first pregnancies go past the due date, sometimes by weeks. She’d thrown all my research at me like confetti when I suggested a few things in a bag might not be a bad idea.
Without turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my phone before it could go to voicemail again.
“Mia?”
“Oh, thank God, Tyler.” Her voice was a hushed whisper .
“Are you okay?” I frowned and tried to towel off with one hand while grasping the phone with the other.
“I’m hiding in the bathroom.”
“Hiding from what or who?” My heart kicked in my chest. “Should you be calling the police? Where’s Pasha?” I tugged my shirt over my head.
“My mom just pulled up outside the train station. She’s here, Tyler.” Her voice cracked. “I look like this, and she’s here. I can’t see her. I can’t talk to her. I can’t show her this. She’ll never forgive me.”
I held my breath, trying to decide whether Laura’s sudden appearance was better or worse than Mia going into premature labor. “Where’s Pasha?”
“Out there talking to her. Grady’s here too. They’ve told her I’m not here.”
A sniffle. She had to be crying. It took so little to set her off. My heart lodged in my throat.
“She said she’d wait for me to get home.”
I released my breath in a whoosh and ran a hand through my wet hair. “You’re in the bathroom? The en suite?”
“No. I panicked.”
I closed my eyes. That meant she was in the two-piece bathroom inside the studio. As soon as Laura needed to pee, Mia would be caught. Grady and Pasha would have to pee in the bushes to keep her hiding spot a secret. My next suggestion was the last thing I wanted. “You could just tell her?”
“Just tell her?” Mia squeaked out. “Just tell her? Really? After all these months, that’s your advice? She can’t know. She can’t. ”
Deep down, I didn’t want Laura involved. There was a chance Mia might pick me and the baby, but if Laura was in Mia’s ear whispering another narrative, I didn’t think I stood a chance. She craved her mother’s love, and Laura lorded that craving over her like a drug dealer.
Getting her out of the bathroom without being seen was going to be tricky. “I’ll be home in ten. Sit tight.”
A frustrated, stifled laugh rang through the phone. “Sure, ’cause I have so many other options. I’ll sit tight, don’t you worry.”
I love you.
The feeling hit me in the chest. It wasn’t the first time. But I was finding it harder and harder to hold back the words. Right now, over the phone, wasn’t the time. Telling her I loved her seemed like a betrayal of what I promised. No strings, just the baby.
We’d become so much more than that. I still didn’t know if it was enough to get her to stay or at least consider staying. We needed to talk, but if I couldn’t get Laura out of the train station and out of town, I might not get the chance.
As soon as I got close enough to the front entrance of the train station, it was clear Laura’s visit was worse than Mia knew. A camera crew circled the station, filming.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
I parked my truck and slipped in the side entrance closest to the parking lot, the one they often used to enter the apartment portion of the station. At the heavy door that led to the studio, I rubbed my face and took a deep breath. Protect Mia . That was all I needed to do. Keep her hidden.
“Grady!” I called while I wandered in. “You still here?”
“In the sitting area!” Grady’s voice was pitched higher than normal. “Laura came for a visit.”
I leaned against the doorframe of the sitting room, my gaze averted from the bathroom door almost directly behind everyone else. Mia could not have picked a worse place to hide. There wasn’t a place to sneak her off to.
“This is an unexpected surprise.” I stared at Laura. “Did Mia know you were coming? She’s not here.”
“So, I’ve heard.” She returned my glare. “I called Grady and asked if they were recording today. He said they would be. So, here I am. We need some bonus material and some promo stuff for the new album. Studio stuff is always well received by her fans. I’ve tried texting her, but she’s not answering.”
“To be clear,” Grady looked between me and Laura, “you didn’t tell me you wanted to bring a camera crew,” he held up a finger, “or that you were coming here .”
“Yes, well, my job is to manage Mia’s career. Whether she likes it or not, getting a bit of footage of her in the studio will be good in a few months when she’s done with her temper tantrum. None of you would understand this, but a manager’s job is to look beyond the immediate problem to what’s ahead. She’s not going to quit. She loves performing too much. So, I need to make sure we’re prepared when she’s ready to hit the throttle again.”
“Are you staying in town today?” I asked. A reminder she was also Mia’s mother sat at the back of my throat, threatening to burst forth. Truthfully, we didn’t need either version of Laura here. “I can call you when she’s back.”
“Where is she? Neither one of these two seemed to know. Since she left her bodyguard here, she can’t be far. I wouldn’t put it past her to be hiding somewhere in the building to avoid me.”
“Spa. All this writing has been hard on her.” My lips tipped up in a partial smile at the lie. A bathroom was like a spa, right?
“At the spa? Without a bodyguard. That’s irresponsible. You don’t know the type of mail we receive, the crazy people obsessed with her.” Laura rose from her seat and gestured toward Pasha. “I should fire you.”
Pasha frowned and glanced at me, unwilling or unable to defend himself.
“We hired a private firm to handle a few hours a week of security to give Pasha a break.” I frowned. “You’re aware of the employment laws, right?” I chuckled. “It’s not like Mia could work him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.” We had used a firm a few times when Pasha had wanted to go somewhere or do something. He rarely asked for any time to himself, but we tried to provide it.
Laura shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I can assure you, you’re temporary, Tyler. You’re not her manager, her father, or her husband. You’re her hashtag Pretty Boy, right?” With her fingers, she air quoted the hashtag. “Isn’t that what she calls you?”
“What’s between us is none of your business, Laura.” I crossed my arms and returned her look. “She’s healthy. She’s happy. She’s making music. You don’t need to be here right now. She asked for space…from you.” That wasn’t completely true. Mia had asked for space from the business end of things, and Laura had interpreted it as space from her, to o. The break could have been an opportunity for them to reconnect, or finally connect. I couldn’t be sure what their relationship had been like before Mia got famous.
“And you’ve latched onto her, hitched yourself to her star power. All your social media accounts are on the rise, right? Your Instagram followers alone went from a couple hundred to almost half a million. I don’t know how you convinced her to shun all those other designers for the VISION Gala, but it certainly turned out well for you.”
That reminded me that I needed to get Mia to block Laura from all my social accounts. I’d forgotten we followed each other months ago.
Since the gala, Mia had been running all my handles. At her suggestion, she’d been filming while I sketched designs, talked about materials, cutting and sewing, essentially our own little Project Runway. I agreed because the videos made her happy, and half the time, she ended up giggling over something I said or did. There wasn’t a better sound in all the world than her laugh.
As soon as she turned off the live feed, I’d sweep her into my arms, and she’d whisper all kinds of dirty things in my ear. The memories, so many of them, made me smile, and I ran my hand down my face to conceal it.
Laura was right. People were following me because of Mia, not because of anything I was doing. The posts were a glimpse into her life, and people ate it up like candy.
Once, she’d read out messages from my fans like I was actually famous. When she’d pretended to write back to them, I’d panicked and tried to take my phone back. But when I checked my messages later, she’d been kind and polite, even to the women proposing marriage. When I questioned her, she said, Yeah, well, I’m not being me, am I? I’m being you. You’re nice to people even when you shouldn’t be .
Maybe Mia would be proud of me because I was done being nice. “Accusing me of using her is a rich statement coming from you. The only things I’ve offered Mia are love and security. You did your job as her manager. She’s got lots of money. Maybe it’s time you focused on your other one? The mother part? The role where you give a shit if your kid is happy and healthy and not just whether she’s willing to work herself into the ground.”
“Like you know anything about the things I’ve done for Mia, the ways I’ve protected her.”
“Protected her?” I growled. “Like how you protected her from Kenny Connors? Or how you protected her from the stream of your boyfriends who wanted a piece of her? You barely batted an eye when Cade Brewer tried to force himself on her in her dressing room. You’ve stood by and let people use her. You’re little better than a pimp.” The last line slipped out before I could reel it in.
“I love my daughter. You can’t protect what you don’t know about. You think she came running to me about any of that? No. She didn’t. When I knew, I helped her.”
I shook my head, anger spewing out. Grady and Pasha shifted uncomfortably in their seats. “You never thought to ask yourself why she didn’t tell you, Laura? If Mia had so much faith in you as a mother, why would she keep those things from you?”
The bathroom door creaked open, and my heart dropped into my feet. I’d gone too far. The pimp thing was too much. Mia was so pissed she opted to reveal herself.
Laura’s back was to the bathroom, but when she turned, she gasped.
Mia wasn’t looking at Laura, she was focused on me. “Tyler, I think the baby is coming. ”
She was so pale. A cold sweat broke out across my back. Her bright-pink leggings were dark until halfway down her thighs. My brain couldn’t process her showing herself to Laura, to the sight of her looking so pale and scared, to the darkness of her thighs. Was she bleeding again?
“Holy shit,” Grady breathed. “Your water broke.”
“Yeah,” Mia said. “My water broke.”
“You’re pregnant?!” Laura screeched.