Chapter Thirty-Three
Mom and Dad being in Quincey Falls had been a good distraction—other than when Mom had decided to make it her sole mission to convince me to talk to Stetson—but it was time for me to get back to real life and deal with everything I’d been avoiding for the last couple of weeks.
After they left, I lay in bed, staring up at the repetitive spin of the fan blades and trying to focus on the whoosh of the air, but the only thing I could hear was my mom. Her words had planted themselves in my brain, my thoughts watering them and giving them space to grow.
Somewhere between one scenario with Stetson and the next, I dozed off.
The absolutely brutal sound of my alarm scared me awake.
“Shit,” I grumbled, rolling out of bed and stumbling my half-asleep body into the bathroom.
As I wiped the sleep out of my eyes, something that she’d said when she was here wouldn’t stop buzzing around inside of my head.
Will you regret it if you don’t go and talk to him?
Mom had a way of ensuring her words had a lasting effect on whoever she was speaking to. She always knew exactly what to say to make sure you couldn’t just brush her off.
My phone rang across the room and Donna’s name scrolled across the screen as I got to my nightstand.
“Hey, Donna.”
“Scarlett. Hi. Good morning. Are you planning on coming into the office today?”
“Yeah, I should be in by nine or a little before.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then, darlin’.”
Click.
The call ended.
Well, that was odd. I hadn’t heard from Donna since I sent over Stetson’s article a few days ago, other than an email saying she couldn’t wait to read it. I figured that was what she was calling about, so the short conversation was a bit unlike her.
Unless she hadn’t liked it… Oh god, what if she hadn’t liked it?
My heart thumped in the back of my throat.
Now I was less focused on how I looked and more focused on getting my ass dressed and out the door so I could get to the Tribune and see what was waiting for me.
The air was stagnant as I locked my apartment door behind me. May had made its brutal arrival in Quincey Falls and that meant the summer heat had become unbearable to a degree, especially when dressed in work clothes.
I was halfway to work before I noticed that I’d been driving in silence.
Well, silence wasn’t the right word because everything going on inside my head was loud.
I wondered what Donna was going to say about the article.
I wondered what Stetson thought about it or if he’d even read it.
Everything felt a bit uneasy as I parked my Jeep.
“Whatever she’s says, it’s going to be fine.” The words came out of my mouth, but I didn’t believe them for a second.
“Scarlett Carson, get your cute butt in here right now.” Donna leaned half of her body out of the Tribune’s front door.
“What’s the matter? Is everything okay?” I questioned, although the playfulness in her tone had me releasing a bit of the anxiety that had taken up residence in my brain.
“You’ll see.”
I stepped past her and into the office, where there was approximately nothing waiting for me inside. I stopped, waiting for her to close the door and give me more information.
“Guess who I got a call from this morning?”
I shook my head back and forth. “I have no idea.”
“Country Music and Company.”
I waited for her to continue, because I could see the words dancing on her tongue.
“You know, the mega publication company that’s known around the world? It’s practically the biggest source of news for all of country music. They’re like the Rolling Stone magazine of your generation,” she declared.
“Okay… and?”
“And they got ahold of your article about Stetson, and they’re asking if they can publish it.” The excitement wasn’t just in her voice, it was written all over her face too.
“What?” I screeched. “What do you mean? How in the hell did they get their hands on my article?”
She raised her hands, shrugging her shoulders. “No idea. But who cares. This is incredible. It could quite literally shape your career. Do understand that, darlin’?”
My mind ran through the files tucked away in my brain, ignoring what she’d just said and instead searching for any inkling into how they may have gotten the article.
“I only sent it to you and Stetson.” The second his name left my mouth, I instinctively I knew I had the answer. “Stetson…” I repeated.
She folded her arms across her chest and a monster-sized grin painted her face.
“I have to go,” I said.
For the first time in thirteen years, I’d grasped the extent of what carrying around my guilt for the rest of my life would look like and it was heartbreaking. “I have to go talk to him. But can we talk about all of this later?”
“Go,” she said, ushering me out of the door. “Go get him.”
The adrenaline roping through me had set me free.
What he’d done, sending my article to Country Music and Company, was the little push I needed to finally listen to the voice inside my head.
Mom might have planted the words, but I had watered them, secretly hoping they’d grow because at the end of the day, happiness was all anyone really wanted and I’d been so consumed by guilt I’d practically let it slip right through my fingertips. I couldn’t let that happen again.
I wouldn’t.
“Stetson!” I called out. “Hello, is anyone is here? Stetson!”
Nothing but the sounds of an old barn rattled back, and the smile on my face slowly faded away as I peered into the recording studio and found it empty.
I made my way to the stables, desperately hoping I’d see that familiar build in the tack room or saddling up Cheyenne for a ride, but I came up empty-handed. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and started scrolling through my contacts.
“Looking for someone?” George’s voice barreled toward me.
“Stetson,” I responded, shoving my phone back in my pocket. “I was just looking for Stetson.”
The wrinkles on his face were extra scrunched. “Oh, darlin’, I figured you knew… Stetson left yesterday. He finished the album and had to get back to Nashville for some benefit concert he’s doing tonight. He’s gone.”
The word gone felt too final.
“Sorry, George. I have to go,” I spouted.
It must have been the day of rushed goodbyes because I was two for two.
“Well, all right then. That’s my girl. Go get him.”
I stopped, almost tripping on my feet from the abruptness. “What makes you think I’m going to find Stetson?” I asked, mid-turn.
“Because you’d be a fool not to, and I know you well enough to know you’re no fool.”
“Bye, George.”
“Bye, darlin’.”